Started With a Kiss
by Ziva- Zia- Z
Summary: "If we do not kiss, then we are not married..." Nearly 30 years ago, they sealed their fates with a kiss, all in a game of house. A game that quickly became real life. & now with 30 years of marriage linking them together, they have the difficult task of juggling careers, parenthood & a stable marriage. The balance shouldn't be too hard to find, right? McGiva. Full summary inside.
1. Chapter 1

**Started With a Kiss**

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

**Summary: "If we do not kiss, then we are not married..." And so, nearly thirty years ago, they sealed their fates with a kiss, all in a game of _house_. A game that quickly became real life. And now, with thirty years of marriage- half of which neither knew about- linking them together, they have the difficult task of juggling careers, parenthood and a stable marriage. The balance shouldn't be too hard to find, right? McGiva. Sequel to my first ever story, _Game of Love_. Enjoy.- Licia**

_Washington, D.C.,_

_Georgetown,_

_2015_

The first day of the first week of the new year started off quiet.

"_Boker Tov_, baby." His green eyes fluttered open, and he stretched, feeling his joints pop and shift beneath his skin. She watched him, propped on her elbow, long dark hair tangled down her back and over her shoulders.

"What time is it?" She shrugged.

"Little after three. It is still dark out."

He glanced towards the window and then back to her. Her gaze was locked on the little girl curled into her side, braids a mess, stuffed purple elephant held tight in her grasp. The bottom of her purple pajama top were bunched up, revealing a small strip of tan back, and she was snorting softly in her sleep. He chuckled softly, before glancing down at the little girl that lay sprawled out on his chest. Nara nuzzled into his chest, her small arms around his chest, dark curls a tangled mass that would take some work getting out. And Yoni-

Tim chuckled. Their middle child seemed to think beds were for sleeping horizontally, not vertically, because once again, the girl was stretched out, her upper half resting on her father- and baby sister- and her lower half was down by Ziva; her feet pressed hard against her older sister's back. He really didn't see how the girl could sleep that way- it made him wince just looking at her- but she seemed to be happy, so they let her be. The four-year-old shifted in her sleep, stretching, pushing against her sister, sending the older girl further into Ziva.

The Israeli laughed softly. "It is not hard to believe that she used to do that when she grew within my womb. Not hard to believe at all." She brushed her fingers through her oldest's messy hair, sliding an arm around the little girl and holding her close. She pressed a kiss to the dark head, before meeting her husband's eyes. Without a word, Ziva pushed herself up, still holding tight to Shirah, and leaned over all three of her daughters, catching his mouth in a soft kiss. "I love you."

"Love you, too, baby." He kissed her again-

"Eww."

"Yucky."

The pair pulled apart, to see their two oldest daughters watching them. Tim sighed, reaching up and brushing his fingers through Nara's hair as the girl slowly lifted her head, yawning. Ziva laughed softly, pressing a kiss to her oldest daughter's curls. _"Boker Tov, katans."_ The girls mumbled the greeting as their mother sat up, shifting Shirah into her lap. She then reached over for Nara, who curled against her father.

_"No!" _

Tim chuckled; that seemed to be the baby's favorite word these days. He slid his hands up her back, catching her gently under the arms and lifting up, handing her to Ziva. The little girl hung onto her father's neck, before being forced to give it up. Slowly, Tim sat up, groaning softly. He loved his girls, he really did, but he couldn't spend the rest of his life waking up with them sprawled over him like they were prone to do. A moment passed as he quickly checked the time on his phone; with the holiday, they had the next couple days off- not that that would stop Gibbs from calling them in for some case.

However, his stalling only gave his girls time to crawl towards him- Yoni threw her arms around his neck from behind, now fully awake. "Yonah Si_â_n!"

Tim chuckled. "It's okay, Ziva." He reached up, taking his daughter's hands and adjusting her hold. The little girl leaned against her father for several minutes before pulling away and climbing into his lap.

"_Ma zeh, Abba_?" Tim glanced back at his oldest daughter, who was staring at her father's shoulder. Ziva followed Shirah's gaze, before realizing what she was looking at.

"Your tattoo." He nodded, shifting to face his girls, adjusting his hold on Yoni. The little girl peeked around him, searching for the design on her father's back, before she finally climbed back onto the bed. The four-year-old let out a squeal of delight when she saw what was on her father's shoulder. She clapped her hands, turning to her mother.

_"Me!"_ Tim and Ziva chuckled; they had explained to each of the girls what their names meant- especially when Shirah asked what hers had meant. And while Shirah had been content to know that her name meant 'poetry' or 'singing', every time Yonah saw a bird- regardless of it being a dove or a blue jay- she was rush after it, associating herself with the fowl.

A moment passed before Tim finally got out of bed, stretching. Ziva let her gaze move over her husband, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. _Exactly like those chippendales- muscles and all._

Tim raised an eyebrow as her gaze came to rest just below his waist; the green plaid pajama bottoms keeping object of her desire hidden. Her dark gaze darted back to his, and she smiled, as he leaned down, catching her mouth in a soft kiss. "I'm gonna go take a shower." She nodded, wanting to join him, but knowing the girls wouldn't let her- because as soon as the bathroom door closed, Yoni and Nara climbed into their mother's lap, knocking her back into the pillows. As she relaxed, the girls settling around her, Ziva let her eyes close. Soft giggling soon forced them open, however, and she found Yoni and Shirah lying on either side of her, with Nara having curled up on her chest. As she wrapped her arms around her girls, Ziva told herself that there was no place she'd rather be at the moment.


	2. Chapter 2

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

_Washington, D.C.,_

_The Navy Yard_

"Called in at four in the morning on the first day of the new year. Who has to go to work at four in the morning on the first day of_ two-thousand-fifteen_?"

Tim and Ziva shared a glance as Tony plopped into his chair. "Everyone in the world who has a job, Tony." Tim replied, taking a sip of his coffee. They'd gotten the call from Gibbs as Ziva had been taking her shower; by then, Tim had gotten out and dressed, and had fixed breakfast for the girls. He'd told the trio after the call that they'd be spending the day with Ducky down in Autopsy- since the case, so far, had to do with a missing little girl.

Of course, the subject touched a nerve with both Tim and Ziva, as they thought of what the parents must be feeling, and hoping never to feel that fear. "And there is a scared little girl out there that needs to be found and brought back to her parents safe and bound."

"Safe and sound, Ziva." Tim replied, and his wife sighed, meeting his gaze.

Tony watched his partners, from where he sat at his desk. Ziva was flipping through her book on American slang, and Tim had found a small rubber bouncing ball in the drawer of his desk- one that belonged to Shirah, but that Gibbs had taken away from the child when she accidentally spilled his coffee. The little girl had followed the Team Leader everywhere that day, apologizing profusely before eventually sitting down in front of his desk and bursting into tears. And while Gibbs had forgiven her, he hadn't given her the ball back- instead, he'd dropped it in the drawer of her father's desk, knowing it would stay there.

Just... not knowing that Tim would find it and proceed to annoy his wife with the small rubber ball.

Ziva jumped, shooting out of her chair so fast she fell out of it, and Tim snorted in amusement. Slowly, the Israeli rose, her gaze appearing over the edge of her desk- she looked to Tony, who just shrugged, and then glanced at Tim, her eyes widening in annoyance. He pretended to look busy, not even glancing her way. As she moved to stand, the ball rolled towards her and she looked down, picking it up. Her fingers closed around the ball, and after a moment, she lobbed the ball back towards her husband.

Tim's chair hit the back of the partition, and he looked up to find Ziva settled back in her seat, a smirk on her face. Eventually, the pair fell into an easy rhythm, tossing the ball back and forth, sharing minute conversation over whatever they were working on. Tony, for his part, sat back and watched; a tennis match without the shouting and annoying announcers. He couldn't say it was a shock to see them like this- but for a brief moment, he felt as though he'd stepped through a wormhole, going back to when Ziva had first arrived.

Not that Tony missed those days- he quite adored their girls, and frankly, couldn't imagine his life without his 'nieces' in it. He even found it hard to believe there had been a time when the girls hadn't been in their parents lives; when it had just been Tim and Ziva, living in that apartment, no childish laughter, no little feet running across the hardwood floors or toys laying haphazardly strewn about the room, waiting to be tripped over; no little dresses to buy or shoes to put on, no plastic covers on the electric light fixtures or baby gates-

"Next trashcan we have to go through, you're gonna be doing it, you know." Ziva raised an eyebrow at her husband.

"I went through the last trashcan at our _last_ scene."

"That's cause you're the probie, Ziva." Tony filled in. She glared at him, catching the ball as it bounced her way, and throwing it back with a lazy flick of her wrist.

"You bastards pulled rank on me."

"You're the probationary agent, baby. Tony's the senior agent, I'm the junior, that's how it works." Tim replied, tossing the ball back as he sipped his coffee.

"Not anymore." The trio looked up as Gibbs caught the ball mid-bounce. He made his way to Tim's desk, dropping it into the junior agent's hand. He gave the younger man a look, and Tim had the sense to look at least a little ashamed. Then, without a word, Gibbs made his way to Ziva's desk, dropping her ID on the desk. Her head snapped up, as Gibbs held out her badge. "Congratulations." She stood, surprised and yet unable to contain her excitement as she picked up the small, laminated cards. "You're now a Journeyman agent."

"My... my probation is officially over?"

"Done and done." Without a glance back, Gibbs headed to his desk.

"_Mazel Tov_, Special Agent_ Da_vid." Ziva turned to her husband.

"It may be _Da_vid here, but at home it is McGee... and I will carry this with tremendous pride." She moved around her desk, perching on the edge of his. "We are now, equals, Timothy."

He pulled her into his lap, sliding his arms around her waist. "We have always been equals, baby." He kissed her soundly- something Gibbs normally wouldn't allow, but because of the circumstances, he looked the other way. She pulled away, climbing to her feet and turning to the three men.

"Tonight, we should all go out and celebrate."

"That's great, Ziva, but what about the babies?" She turned to Tony, raising an eyebrow.

"I am sure our neighbor would be willing to watch the girls, Tony. Besides," She glanced at her husband, catching his gaze. "Tim and I need some time with adults. We love our girls, but there are only so many nights we can stand playing dolls or watching One-Hundred-and-One Dalmatians in Wonderland."

"I think you mean _One-Hundred-And-One Dalmatians_ and_ Alice in Wonderland_, Ziva."

She wrinkled her nose. "Yes, that too."


	3. Chapter 3

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

_Washington, D.C.,_

_Georgetown, _

_Three Months Later_

"_Abba_, what is that word?" Tim set his empty cup down on the coffee table, taking a seat beside his daughter.

"What word, Shiraleh?" She pointed at it and Tim furrowed a brow. "What are you reading?"

"The dove book." She showed him the cover and he sighed, rolling his eyes.

"I think it's a little too advanced for you, _katan_. What about_ The Wizard of Oz_ or _Secret Garden_ or-"

The little girl looked up at him, confusion in her grey-green eyes as she met her father's gaze. "But... you and_ Ima_ read the dove book to us every night."

"We allow you to_ listen_, Shiraleh. Listening and reading are two entirely different things." He pressed a kiss to his daughter's head before getting up and going into the kitchen. Ziva stood at the counter, flipping through her recipe book, muttering softly to herself in Hebrew. Tim set his cup down and went to her, sliding his arms around her waist and pulling her close. He pressed a kiss to her hair; for a brief moment, Ziva reached up, brushing her fingers over his jawline before returning to what she was doing. "Our daughter is reading _The Dovekeepers_."

"Which one?" She asked, eyes scanning a recipe for _mujaddara_. He rolled his eyes, tightening his hold on Ziva's waist and kissing her neck.

"The... oldest."

"Oh." She stopped flipping pages and turned to him. "What do you think of baked _forel_ for dinner tonight?" He furrowed a brow. "Schmeil is in D.C., to visit, remember? You were going to pick him up tonight, remember, baby?"

A moment passed before he nodded. "Right. Sorry, I forgot, baby."

Scmeil Pinkhas had been a good friend to both Eli and John- he had worked for the Prime Minister, and he and his wife had run in the same circles as John and Eli had; both Ziva and Tim had grown up listening to Schmeil's stories of what it was like working for the Prime Minister during the early years of the state's creation- he had known Ziva from the time she was three, and had, upon meeting Tim, appropriately declared that there would come a time when they were no longer name calling and punching each other; that instead, they would one day be whispering declarations of love and sharing kisses.

And his wife- a Jewish woman from Georgia named Bedisa- had, upon seeing the two children together, declared that one day they would share a home miles away from Israel, in a land of perpetual winter. They would risk their lives to protect the innocent every day, and return home to three young girls that Bedisa had called 'doves' though she'd given no explanation to the term. She'd also informed the two that their little 'doves' would go on to do great things- that one would possess stars in her eyes, one would bury her hands in the dirt long tied to another's destiny, and one would risk her life for a repeat of the past- but she didn't explain herself.

"So, if I can just find something to fix for dinner-"

"Well, what exactly are you thinking of fixing?" He asked, leaning against the counter. She sighed.

"I was thinking baked _forel_, but... it does not seem exactly kosher." She ran a hand through her hair, returning to the book.

"Well this isn't _exactly_ a kosher kitchen, baby, so it's not going to be _exactly_ what we would be having Israel." He reached out, taking her hand. "Anything we make tonight- since we will not be using kosher utensils, everything will pretty much become non-kosher. Then, there's also the added problem."

She furrowed a brow. "What problem is that, baby?"

He cleared his throat, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm a Catholic, Ziva." She stopped. "I'm a non-Jew, and _bishul Yisrael_ states that I cannot cook anything we eat if you want it to remain kosher tonight. I can_ help_, but the majority of the meal_ has_ to be made by you."

She lifted her head, turning to him. "But... you cook for us all the time, baby. Why should it matter? Your cooking is wonderful, and the girls love it when you cook-"

"I'm Catholic, remember?"

"Oh, right." She sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. "But that has no banned us from synagogue when we do go, and it has not banned us from the Catholic church either. People understand that we are married, even though you are Catholic and I am Jewish. They accept our marriage not for our religion, but because we love each other."

"I know, okay? But to someone like Schmeil-"

"Schmeil will not care who made the meal, baby. He will just be grateful to see us and meet our girls. He is not going to criticize the meal we serve because I am Jewish and you are not. He has known us for too long; he knows that I have not always kept kosher. Especially when there has been pizza around." He rolled his eyes, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her close. Their mouths met in a deep kiss, and after a moment, he pulled away, turning back to her cookbook.

"Well," He flipped through it, scanning the recipes. "we can do the best we can with what we have." Minutes passed, before he stopped, glancing at her. She leaned close.

"What did you find, baby?" The two shared a glance, and she raised an eyebrow.

"It's been a while since we had that. What do you say?" He pulled her close, sliding an arm around her waist and patting her hip. "Chicken _albondigas_ okay?"

She met his gaze. "We have to have _more_ than just meatballs, Timothy." Her dark gaze moved over the recipe, before she turned back to him. "With couscous? It is something the girls have not had, something new they can try."

He grinned, kissing her. "Now you're thinking, baby."


	4. Chapter 4

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

**Thanks to amiebeca for reviewing 1 and 2, Guest for reviewing 3 and Reader aka Sun Samurai for reviewing 1, 2 and 3, and to Stop for the lovely review on chapter 3. But, if you don't like it, then don't read it. I'm just playing around with writing on my sister-in-law's account, there's no need to get so nasty- saying it's bullshit and telling me to stop because it's something _you_ don't like. Granted, I'm new to this whole fan fiction writing thing, but even I know that this is _just_ fiction. It's_ fake._ It's _never_ going to happen on the show. That's why it's called _fan fiction_. It's what the fans imagine might happen or could happen on the show or in the book or whatever. **

**Besides, isn't that what people who write fan fiction _do_? Make up stories for fictional characters that are outside of what was written for them in the movie/tv show/novel? If you don't like McGiva, then _go read_ Tiva; there are plenty on the site.**

"Something smells good."

Tim chuckled at the older man's declaration as he pushed the door to the apartment open, agreeing, allowing Schmeil and Bedisa to enter first before following. Once the door closed behind them, Tim took their coats, hanging them in the closet by the door. Small feet rushed towards him, but soon skidded to a stop. _"Abba?"_

Her father looked up to see Shirah watching him, her grey-green eyes wide as she looked at the older couple. But just as Tim opened his mouth to respond, Shirah when running into the kitchen, screaming for her mother. _"Ima!"_ The child stammered something in unintelligible Hebrew, and Ziva scooped her up, settling the child on her hip as she returned to the living room. She instantly relaxed though, realizing that her oldest child was getting all worked up over nothing.

"Schmeil, Bedisa! It is wonderful to see you again!" She pressed a kiss to each of their cheeks, adjusting her hold on Shirah. Yoni and Nara were in the study, watching around the bookcase.

"Ah, Ziva, you have turned into quite the woman, since we last saw you." Ziva blushed at Bedisa's comment.

"And, who is this young _yofi_?" Schmeil asked; Shirah buried her face in Ziva's shoulder.

"This... is our oldest daughter, Shirah." Tim slipped past the couple, going to the study. He came back with Nara on his hip and Yoni holding tight to his hand. The older couple shared a glance.

"Three?"

Tim nodded at Bedisa, feeling Yoni grab onto his leg and hide. "Nahara and Yonah." When he turned back to the couple, he couldn't place the peculiar gleam in the old woman's eyes.

Two hours later, after dinner had been eaten and the dishes cleared away, they settled in the living room, coffee in hand. Ziva curled into Tim's side, and Schmeil watched the two children he'd watched growing up from the armchair by the fireplace. Bedisa took a seat next to the couple, studying them. "How old are your girls?" The couple looked at Schmeil; he was waiting patiently, hands folded.

"Two, four and six." Tim replied, glancing towards the study area, where all three children in question sat watching the strangers from behind the bookcase. A moment passed, before he whistled softly, nodding for the girls to join them. After a moment, the children did as told, rushing to the sofa and climbing up. They scooted as close as they could to their parents; Shirah climbed onto her father's lap, burying her face in his chest and he chuckled. "It's okay, girls. There's no need to be scared; they're old friends of both your _Sabas_."

"Bedisa and I have known your parents from the time they were your ages. We watched them grow up, watched them fall in love."

Eventually, Tim and Bedisa fell into quiet conversation, and Ziva got up, going back into the kitchen with the cups to get more coffee for everyone. "I am sorry to hear about John, Ziva." She glanced over her shoulder; Schmeil had followed her, offering his help. "He was a good man, a good friend to Israel and Mossad and... a good friend to me."

"_Toda_, Schmeil." She reached out, squeezing his hand.

"How is Timothy dealing with his father's death? The loss of a loved one is difficult, made even more so when the one leaving is a parent."

She sighed, pouring a cup and holding it out to him. "Tim is... coping. He and Sarah will heal, but it will take time. And I do not begrudge him for his grief. I have suffered enough grief myself, so I know what he is going through, I just..." She stopped pouring, and set the pot down. "I wish I could do something the help ease their pain."

"The first year after a close family member passes is the hardest. Nothing will change that, Ziva, and nothing will speed up the healing process. You need to let them grieve and work through this." She nodded, silent, as Schmeil glanced back into the living room. Yoni and Nara were sitting on the floor playing with a couple toys, and Shirah hadn't moved from Tim's lap. "Those girls of yours are very beautiful, Ziva. Do all three of them possess as gentle souls as your husband?"

Ziva stopped, thinking. "They do, though Yonah and Nahara possess more of Tim's soul than Shirah."

"She possesses more of your soul than your husband's."

She blushed. "Yes. Shirah seems to... to be more like me than her father._ Abba_ would say that... that she possesses too much fire and not enough water within her soul. That there is not enough air within her to help her find her balance."

Schmeil reached up, gently patting her cheek. "She will find her balance, Zivaleh. She just needs to find the right person to help her control it. Like you have."


	5. Chapter 5

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

**A/N: Welcome to the family, little sister.- Licia**

That night after Schmeil and Bedisa returned to their hotel- they were only staying in D.C. for a day, leaving the day after tomorrow- Tim and Ziva tucked the girls into their beds and slipped into their own. She snuggled into his side, resting her head against his chest. Tim pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her head. Neither said a word, the close contact was all they needed-

And then it was over, the door creaking open as three sets of small feet dashed into the room and clambered onto the bed. Tim pulled away, propping himself onto his elbow to see the girls crawl towards them. Shirah plopped down beside her father, holding out the book. Tim glanced at his wife as Ziva sat up, allowing Nara to climb into her lap. Yoni settled against Ziva's side, and after a moment, Tim took the book, sitting up and opening it to the bookmarked page.

"_'All the while you were growing up, I was your brother. You followed me as the dove follows the fields of grain. I dressed in blue robes, my hair caught up, then tightly braided in the fashion of young boys. Your father taught me to ride a horse, how to use a slingshot and spear. I was a natural warrior, made for iron. It was my element from the start.'_"

"_Lama_?"

Tim looked down at his oldest, who'd curled close to him, and sighed, thinking. "So she would be safe, and able to defend herself."

Shirah turned to her mother. "_Ima, lama_?"

Ziva glanced at her husband; when she spoke, she knew that it would be of her own past, her own forced need to grow up quickly. Because despite her childhood with Tim, she still had to grow up; they both had to. Airstrikes from the Palestinians, retaliations, kidnappings, war... a child had to be careful in Israel, especially if that child was an Israeli-born Jew. "You have to understand, _katan_, that the world you were born into and the world_ Abba_ and I were born into are two entirely different worlds. _Abba_ and Si-Si were born in Ireland, and there was a lot of violence there, so they moved to Israel. And I was born in Israel, just as your Aunt Tali and Uncle Ari were, and it was violent as Ireland, if not more."

"Who?"

Ziva swallowed, meeting her husband's gaze. A moment passed before she got out of bed, going into the living room. She returned with the two photographs- the one of the them all when they were no older than the girls, and the one of them all at Masada when they were teenagers. When she climbed back into bed the girls gathered around their mother to look at the photos.

"Who are they,_ Ima_?" Shirah asked, pointing to the children in the photograph. Ziva glanced at her husband, before turning back to the image.

"The little girl in the blue is my baby sister, Tali, and that is _Abba_, who is holding her hand; the boy in the red shirt is your Uncle Ari- he's my older brother, and the little girl in the pink dress is Si-si."

Yoni pointed to the girl in the center of the photograph, with the overalls and pigtails. "That is me._ Abba_ and I were both a little older than Shiraleh." Ziva replied, brushing a kiss to her daughter's head. Shirah grabbed the second photograph, studying it. She glanced at Tim, who leaned close, pointing each person in the photograph.

"That is your Aunt Tali, and Uncle Ari and Si-si, and_ Ima_ and I up at Masada when we were teenagers." His daughter looked up at him, confused.

"Tali _eifo_?"

Her parents shared a glance. How exactly did they even begin to explain to a six-year-old that her mother's siblings had died long before she'd been born- before she'd been_ thought_ of even? What did they say to explain that both her maternal aunt and uncle had died with the kiss of a bullet, one from a sniper's rifle, the other from the handgun his sister or brother-in-law held? How did he explain that Tali and Ari were with Rivka and Kathleen, and John? They'd had a hell of a time trying to explain death to the girls when John had passed away-

So how were they going to explain that Ari and Tali had been gone eighteen and eight years, respectfully? How did they explain to their daughters that Tali had died in Israel, a country the girls knew about, but had never seen in any way other than a map? That she had died in their mother's arms, at the tender age of sixteen, just three months shy of her seventeenth birthday.

"Tali is..." Ziva sighed, meeting Tim's gaze. "Aunt Tali and Uncle Ari are with _Saba_ John and _Savta_ Rivka."

"And _Saba_ Kathleen?" Ziva nodded, struggling to keep the tears out of her eyes.

"Ken, love. And... and Aunt Nettie."

Shirah turned to her mother. "Who is... Nettie?"

Tim chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to his daughter's head. "Nettie... Nettie was_ Ima_'s aunt. And she... she looked on both Si-si and I as her children." He pulled the girl closer, pressing another kiss to her head as he brushed a curl aside. "She was..." He swallowed thickly. "She was an archaeologist."

"What do they do,_ Abba_?"

"They study past cultures by collecting things to study."

"Like what?" He sighed, meeting his wife's gaze.

"Like plates and bowls and things people used to use in the past-"

"Mooseums?" Yoni asked, eyes wide. Sarah had spent the afternoon with her nieces a couple weeks earlier; they'd walked the National Mall and seen the statue of Lincoln; visited both the American History Museum and the Air and Space Museum before going to the Vietnam Memorial and taking a tour of the White House. While her sisters had seemed bored by the various museums, Yoni had loved them; going from exhibit to exhibit with wide eyes, asking all sorts of questions of the tour guides, and wanting to know how the things in the museums had been found.

"Kind of, _katan_." Tim whispered, leaning over and brushing a kiss to her head. "Kind of."


	6. Chapter 6

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

**Thanks to Gina Callen for reviewing 4, amiebeca for reviewing 5 and Reader aka Sun Samurai for reviewing 4 and 5.**

_Washington, D.C.,_

_The Navy Yard,_

_Eight Months Later_

"_Another_ dream about work, baby? Please tell me I was_ not_ in it. Do not get me wrong, I am honored, but I _do_ share the same bed with you, that should be enough-"

"You weren't, but your _knives_ were." The elevator closed behind them. "What do you think that means?"

"Well I do not want to speculate-" The conversation stopped as the couple found themselves face-to-face with Palmer, who was wiping tears off his cheeks. All the autopsy assistant did was point towards the stairs where Jerry, a suspect in their last case, chased Gibbs up the stairs towards the director's office.

Winter had rolled around quick, Tim and Ziva were preparing a nice surprise for the girls- Eli was coming down to visit and spend the holidays with his last remaining child and her family. His plane would get in at six that evening, and Tim would pick him up at the airport, leaving Ziva home with Sarah and the girls.

"Why is Jerry still here?" Ziva asked; she only half-listened as Tony explained the details of the end of the case.

"Looks like you're gonna have to have another talk with him, baby." Tim said, stealing a kiss from his wife before heading to his desk. Ziva sighed, going to her own desk. As the couple began logging into their computers and checking e-mail, something exploded; lights began to flicker and confetti began to fall while that typical annoying Christmas music began to play, the startled cries of their coworkers drowning out their own.

Of course, on instinct, both agents leapt from their chairs, pulling their guns and aiming at their computers, ready to do serious damage. It was only as the confetti continued to fall like snow and the popping sounds stopped that the couple turned towards their partner, two sigs aimed at Tony from opposite directions. He grinned-

"_You_."

As he turned from Tim, catching Ziva's eye, his grin faded. "Too much?"

Eight hours later, Tim parked the car in their space and got out; Eli followed behind him. The Mossad Director was staying at a small hotel in Georgetown, not far from his daughter and son-in-law's place; intent on spending the last night of Hanukkah and Christmas Eve with his remaining child and her family- for the two holidays happened to collide on the same day this year. As the two men walked up the stairs, Eli spoke, his voice filled with concern. "Timothy, I know that the holidays were highly important for you and your family, how much they meant to John. It was as painful when we lost Tali, to celebrate her birthday, and Hanukkah was not celebrated for us for a couple years at least."

"I know, _Abba_." Tim whispered, tears choking his voice, as he thought of the little girl with the curls- the child who had delighted in the sugar cookies shaped like snowmen and Santa Claus his mother had made at Christmastime. Because despite the fact that the _Da_vids were Jewish, they had allowed Ziva and her siblings to also experience Christmas; to understand that winter wasn't just about Hanukkah, and that God allowed all faiths to worship him, not just the Jews. Tim and Sarah had delighted in the first time the _Da_vids came over for Christmas dinner- the wide eyes Ari and his sisters possessed at the lights and ornaments on the tree, the small porcelain manger scene that Kathleen had brought with them from Ireland that had once belonged to her mother, Aileen- and now belonged to Tim, for Sarah had taken their mother's Christmas angel- whose face was carved of porcelain, gown and wings woven of soft Irish silk- that had sat atop their tree, that had rested atop the fireplace mantel, the family's stockings on hanging on either side of it.

They'd been amazed at the brightly wrapped presents beneath the tree; for the siblings received a gift each night of Hanukkah, they had never imagined receiving gifts all on one night, and theirs certainly hadn't been wrapped as brightly. Kathleen and John had told both Eli and Rivka that they'd gotten a few things for the kids, hoping that was okay. Neither had objected, knowing that it was just the McGee's way of helping teach their kids that God belonged to everyone, of all faiths, not one faith or another. "I... remember Ziva telling me that lighting the menorah would just be too painful without Tali there."

Eli nodded, stopping on the landing. "I can only hope that with time you and _Sarit_ will take comfort that your father is with Kathleen and Rivka, and the others. And he is watching your girls and protecting them." Tim met his father-in-law's gaze, giving the older man a small smile.

"_Toda, Abba_. It means a lot."

Without a word, they continued up the stairs, making their way towards the apartment. They could hear Ziva and Sarah entertaining the girls on the other side of the door when they got close enough; telling them stories of the Maccabees and of the Christmas star; they, like Tim and Ziva, would grow up celebrating both holidays- their parents made sure of it. Tim leaned against the door, hearing his wife.

"... there was still enough oil by the end of the eighth day-"

"_Ima, lama_? You said they ran out of oil-"

"It was a miracle, Shiraleh, just like the Star that guided the three wise men to the manger that night."

"But why, Si-si? Miracles do not exist-"

"You were a miracle, Shiraleh. You and your sisters were miracles that _Abba_ gave me."

Tim glanced at his father-in-law, seeing the tears in Eli's eyes. The Mossad director reached out, squeezing his son-in-law's shoulder with a small smile. With a quick "wait here," Tim slipped into the apartment shutting the door softly behind him as Eli waited in the hall.

"I want you three to think of the _one_ thing you want more than anything else in the world for Hanukkah and Christmas, okay, _katans_?" The girls nodded, telling their father what toys they wanted or what books, when he stopped them, and Eli had to laugh silently to himself. Ah, the minds of children, never seeing past that latest toy or game for their attention spans were short, focused only on one things for a short period of time- the things that could give them instant gratification and entertain them, things that didn't allow the big picture to be seen- that would not be seen until they were much older, and could appreciate the finer, harder-worked-for things in life. Their father sighed. "I don't want to know what you want; I want you to close your eyes, and wish with all your might okay, girls?"

Eli leaned against the wall, hands in his pockets, listening as his oldest granddaughter protested. "But_ Abba_, how will-"

"I said close your eyes, Shirah." The older man chuckled softly. Shirah was so much like her mother, like his precious Ziva- full of curiosity and desire to know every little thing about the world around her. "Keep them closed."

He stood as he heard Tim's footsteps return to the door; straightening, he removed his hands from his pockets, waiting. He smiled at his son-in-law as Tim opened the door and stepped aside. "Okay girls, open your eyes." Three pairs of grey-green eyes opened-

"_Saba_!"


	7. Chapter 7

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

Eli stepped into the apartment, promptly kneeling down and opening his arms, as Shirah and Yoni rushed to him, their small arms going around his neck. Nara, still in her mother's arms, kicked her tiny feet and legs eagerly, desperate to break free of her mother's hold and rush to her grandfather like her sisters had. Despite that she had just turned three a few months ago, she still clung to Ziva, oftentimes preferring to be held by her mother than to walk or be with her sisters. Nara was very much a Mama's girl, while both her sisters stuck close to their father.

She reached out for Eli, whimpering, her small, pudgy hands hitting nothing but air.

Eli scooped both his older granddaughters into his arms, pressing kisses to their heads. "Oh, my darlings! Look at how big you have gotten!"

Nara let out a cry, kicking frantically at the air. The little girl turned to her mother, tears in her big, grey-green eyes, but Ziva was struggling not to cry at the sight of her father and her two oldest daughters. Eventually, Eli set the girls down and went to his daughter, kissing her quickly on the cheek before taking the little girl in his arms. "How are you doing, Zivaleh?" She gave him a soft smile. "And there is my little Naraleh. How are you, _ahuva_?"

The child immediately stopped her crying, snuggling into Eli's shoulder. He pressed a kiss to her head, adjusting his hold on her. He then went to Sarah, pulling her into a hug and pressing a kiss to her head.

After dinner, they settled in the living room, warm cups of coffee- hot chocolate for the girls- and a plate of cookies and _sufganiyah _on the table for them. The three adults sat chatting as the girls gathered the presents and brought them to the recipients. Once all the presents had been sorted, Shirah and Yoni climbed into Eli's lap.

"_Slicha, Saba_. We did not get you anything for Hanukkah or Chris'mas." Shirah said; she had lost her first tooth a week ago, giving her a slight lisp when she used her 't's.

Eli chuckled, pulling both of the older girls close. "No need to apologize, _ahuva_. Being with you and Aunt _Sarit_ and _Ima_ and_ Abba_ is present enough for me during these holidays." He pressed a kiss to each head of dark curls. "Now, how about you go open your gifts." The girls climbed off his lap, rushing to do as told, and the adults watched as they tore into the wrapping paper, as children often do at Christmas.

An assortment of books, clothes, and various toys were soon revealed- not so much that the girls were spoiled, but just enough that it would keep them occupied so that their parents could go through and pack up the old toys the girls had outgrown, and take them to Goodwill. It had been a tradition in Sarah and Tim's family, that new toys were given to the kids, and the old ones the kids no longer played with were sorted through, cleaned up, and taken to either Salvation or Goodwill, so another child would be able to enjoy them, a less fortunate child.

Eli chuckled, watching as Yoni hugged the doll Sarah had gotten her- with its long dark curls and eyes and dusky-colored skin, it resembled the girl's mother. In a blue dress with little Mary Janes, she had a soft body, and plastic head, hands and legs, so that the child could play with her. "I remember giving you a doll like that for Hanukkah when you were Yonaleh's age, Ziva. You played with her for about... five minutes, I believe, and then went in search of Ari's toys. No matter how hard Rivka pushed you, you would not play with dolls; she was desperate for you to act like a girl, not a boy; it annoyed her so."

Ziva smiled at the memory, replying at Sarah's confused look. "I preferred G.I. Joes over baby dolls. And _Battleship_ was my favorite game."

"I remember playing that with you." Tim said, as Nara climbed into her father's lap and settled down, the two small Golden Books Sarah had gotten for her clutched tightly in her hot little hands. He pressed a kiss to his youngest daughter's head. "You always won."

"You won a couple times, baby." Ziva replied, meeting his gaze.

"Because you_ let_ me win." She grinned, not denying it.

"But I did play with dolls for a little while, _Abba_." She turned to Eli, who had Yoni on his lap, a cup of hot chocolate and a cookie as well as her new doll in her grasp. "When Tim and I played 'house' that doll was my baby. We pretended it was our daughter-"

"_Another_?" Shirah cried, tears welling in her eyes. It took a moment for Ziva to figure out what her oldest was so upset about, and she gasped.

"No, no, _katan_. _Abba_ and I would play pretend. This was _long_ before you were born." She held out a hand, and the girl climbed into her mother's lap, nestling into her.

"I do not want another sis'er." Ziva chuckled softly as she gently rocked her oldest. At seven, Shirah had taken it upon herself to make sure both her parents knew that no more siblings would be tolerated. Two were enough, and there were days when she wasn't even happy with the ones she had. There were days when she didn't _want_ to share_ Ima_ and_ Abba_ with her sisters; she had to, there was no way around it. And she loved her sisters, she really did, but she didn't want to be with them all the time. There was nearly a year and a half in difference between her and Yoni- the younger girl was five, and Nara was three...

"Oh _katan _you do not have to worry. You have two sisters. There are not going to be anymore. There _cannot_ be anymore."

Slowly, the girl pulled away, looking up at her mother. "_Lama_?"

Ziva sighed, glancing at the others. "I will explain when you are older." She tapped her daughter's nose. "It is not something little girls need to worry about now."


	8. Chapter 8

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

_Washington, D.C.,_

_The Navy Yard,_

_2017_

"Four, six and _eight_?"

"_Yeah_."

"You_ have_ to be kidding me, McGee. There's_ no way_ those girls are four, six and eight!"

"I'm not kidding, Tony. I was there when they were born- hell, I was there when they were each _conceived_. I watched them come into this world, and I watched Shirah blow out nine candles on her cake last weekend."

Tony dropped his gear by his desk as his partner made his way to his own. He'd been up in New York at his father's latest wedding the day of Shirah's birthday, but he'd called the little girl on Skype to wish her a happy birthday. "So the one to grow on?" He asked, wandering to Tim's desk and perching on the edge. The younger agent looked up from logging onto his computer.

"I kept taking it off, and Ziva kept putting it back on. Eventually, she told me if I touched that candle one more time, it wouldn't be the only thing lit." Tony winced; Ziva's threats often didn't make him cringe, but the veiled reference to injury to Tim's manhood had even the senior agent crossing his legs in self-preservation. "And if it makes you feel any better,_ technically_, Yoni doesn't turn six for another three months."

"But Nara turned four a month ago, and Shirah's now eight, so that must make Yon-Yon-"

"Hurt? Jealous? Annoyed beyond reason? Take your pick, she's been all three ever since Nara's party." Tim replied, quickly checking his e-mail. He chuckled softly at Tony's nickname for his middle daughter.

"What's so funny, McLaughter?"

Tim met his gaze. "'Yon-yon', Tony? Seriously? It sounds like-"

"Bam-bams, right?" The men looked up as Ziva came into the bullpen, carrying a box of pastries and a tray of coffee. She'd dropped the girls off at school that morning, since Tim had been called in early to help with a malfunction in MTAC.

"Actually the correct term is 'bonbons,' baby." He replied, sitting back in his chair as his wife removed the hat she wore and grabbed the cup holder and the box, joining the two men. She gave him a look as she set the holder on the desk and allowed Tony to take his before removing Tim's and hers and setting them aside before going to Gibbs's desk and setting the last cup on the desktop. She then tossed the holder in the trash and returned to her husband's desk; Tony had already gotten into the box, removing a jelly doughnut and taking a bite.

"Oh. Then what are bam-bams?"

"Ah... well, Bamm-Bamm was the son of Barney and Betty Rubble, characters on the popular children's cartoon,_ The Flintstones_, and was portrayed by Don Messick. The show ran from nineteen-sixty to sixty-six and-" He stopped, realizing the couple was staring at him, both with unsure expressions on their faces.

"So... what is a bonbon?"

"Remember the small chocolate-covered candies that we had at Shiraleh's party? The ones we bought from the little bakery just down the street?" She thought a moment. "The ones Nara was chipmunking?" Tim clarified, referring to the four-year-old and her habit of hiding candies in her cheeks- like a squirrel or chipmunk would do- especially when she got caught with something she wasn't_ supposed_ to have. "The little chocolate candies that melted all over her hands and that she managed to get all over her dress and both of her sisters' dresses?" Ziva's eyes widened, remembering the incident. "Yeah,_ those_ are bonbons."

"What incident?" Tony asked.

"_That_ is partially why we don't allow sweets at home except for special occasions. Because it gets _everywhere_."

Tony smacked Tim lightly on the back of the head. "Hey!"

"What incident? I wasn't there remember? I didn't get to see what stunt my youngest niece pulled."

Ziva rolled her eyes. "It is long and complicated, Tony. And it ruined Nahara's good dress."

"It ruined all three of their good dresses. Not to mention the curtains and that blue blouse I love seeing you in." Ziva gave her husband a small, sympathetic smile.

It had taken them all night to get the stains out of the drapes, and even then, they'd been forced to take the drapes, all three dresses, and Ziva's nice, dark blue blouse to the dry cleaner's. In the end, the drapes and dresses had been saved, but Ziva's blouse had been the unfortunate sacrifice to the birthday party gods- not that it was new or made of silk or anything, but it _had_ been the first article of clothing Ziva had bought not long after she arrived in America, and she'd loved it. She'd had the blouse for nearly ten years, only to lose it not to over-wearing or dryer-eating, but to a small, dark-haired, grey-green-eyed four-year-old with quick hands and a love of all things chocolate.

"This isn't the first time Nara's gotten into trouble of the chocolate variety." Tim chuckled softly. "I caught Naraleh in the fridge before dinner one night." Ziva said, moving around the desk to perch in Tim's lap.

"What was she doing?" Tony asked, sipping his coffee.

"What do you think she was doing, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, coming into the bullpen from the back elevator.

"Well I don't know, Boss. There could be a thousand reasons at to why a four-year-old-" He stopped as Gibbs smacked him on the back of the head, before going to Ziva and brushing a kiss to her cheek. "Stickin' her fingers in chocolate." Tim and Ziva's eyes widened. "Shirah like her piggy bank?"

Ziva chuckled softly, meeting the Team Leader's gaze. "She loves it, thank you, Gibbs."

The former marine had made the little girl an elephant-piggy bank for her birthday and painted it purple. The child adored the thing, and rushed to Gibbs that day, thanking him over and over again. The older man nodded. "Good."

"She calls it _Amir_\- 'treetop' in Hebrew." Both Tony and Gibbs turned to the young father, who slid his arm around his wife's waist.

"Um... not to... be rude or anything, Tim, but you two do know that your daughter is-"

"Strange?" Tim filled in, and wordlessly, Tony nodded. "Yeah, Tony, we know." He nodded to Ziva as she got up to go back to her own desk. "I blame her."

Ziva didn't say a word; instead, she glared at her husband, smacking him lightly on the back of the head. Tim jumped, turning to her. "Special Agent _Da_vid, you did _not_ just do that."

She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. "I did, Special Agent McGee. And I would do it again."

Gibbs sat at his desk, coffee in hand, a knowing smile on his face as he watched his agents.


	9. Chapter 9

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

**Thanks to amiebeca for reviewing 6 and 8 and Reader aka Sun Samurai for reviewing 6, 7 and 8.**

_Washington, D.C.,_

_Georgetown_

"_'By then, the beasts were crouched by the pool, their faces in the water like dogs, suddenly possessed by an unquenchable thirst. I breathed in my grim success, knowing this was a sign that the poison had claimed them. They could not stop their desire for water even though they clutched their bellies, which were overly full, nearly ready to burst. I watched cold-eyed as they drank themselves to death. That was what happened to the rats in my husband's bakery. We often found them drowned in a bucket after they took the bait, dying from the terrible thirst the hemlock brought on.'_"

Ziva shifted closer to her husband; as close as the three children would allow, for the girls had once more crawled into their parents' bed that night, and now lay against their parents', listening as their father read once more from_ The Dovekeepers_. Though they didn't understand most of what was being read, it was tradition, that their parents would read a section each night before bed- one that had started long before the girls had been conceived and born and continued after their births. Not listening to their parents read _Dovekeepers_ would be like not having air to breathe.

"_Abba_, what is hamlock?"

Tim looked down at Shirah, who lay against his chest, clutching_ Brogan Nollaig_, her stuffed purple elephant, to her chest. He sighed, sitting up and pulling the girl into his lap as Ziva shifted Nara on her lap; Yoni leaned against her mother's side, arms around Ziva's waist. Tim met his wife's eyes. Hemlock is... it's a poison."

"Oh. Is it bad?" Her parents shared a glance.

"It is very bad, Shiraleh. People who use hemlock are not nice people."

The girl nodded, and after a moment, Tim marked their place and closed the book, which brought instant protests from the girls. "It is nine in the evening, _which_ _means_," The girls fell silent at the snap in his voice. "which means," He spoke softer this time, glancing at each of his girls. "that little girls need to go to bed, because they have school tomorrow." The protests instantly started up again and were instantly squashed by both Tim and Ziva.

After putting the girls to bed and returning to their own, Ziva snuggled into Tim, shifting until she was lying comfortably against his chest, head resting just beneath his chin, her arms around his waist. She pressed a kiss against his collarbone, feeling him tighten his hold briefly before releasing her. "I love you." She looked up at him, grinning softly.

"I love you, too." Their lips met in a soft kiss, in multiple kisses that soon morphed into more. He pushed her into the bed, balancing over her; their gazes locked, and after a moment, his mouth met hers. It was quick, chaste, and when he pulled away, she reached up, sliding her arms around his neck and pulling him back to her. The next kiss was deeper, more exploratory; Ziva slid a foot up his legs and over his buttocks, wrapping her leg around his waist and pushing him down, so that his hands gave out and he ended up crashing down on her.

Tim grunted in surprise, and she giggled, breaking the kiss. "God, Ziva-" Their gazes locked, and she caressed his head in her hands, her fingers moving to play with the downy hair at the nape of her husband's neck. "I could have hurt you."

"Hmm... you could never hurt me, Timothy." She ran her fingers through his hair, before sliding one had down his back. "Not intentionally and not that way. You have too much water in you, too much good. Besides, I like feeling you on top of me. I feel safe."

He kissed her deeply, before whispering, "Water can be destructive, baby. Just as destructive as fire and wind."

She narrowed her eyes. "You told me that you do not believe in such... nonsense."

He shrugged. "Just because I don't believe in it doesn't mean that such a thing doesn't exist. My mother was pure Irish, remember? I was raised to believe in brownies and mermaids and leprechauns." She giggled.

"What are brownies?" The pair pulled apart, to see Shirah standing beside the bed, Brogan clutched tight in her arms. Tim pulled back and Ziva pushed herself onto her elbows.

"Ah... Shiraleh, what are you doing out of bed? You are supposed to be asleep." The girl watched her parents, grey-green eyes drinking everything in.

"Are brownies food? Like what we had at my party?" Her parents shared a glance before sitting up. Ziva reached for Shirah, and the girl scrambled onto the bed, settling into her mother's lap.

"Not those type of brownies,_ katan_." Tim replied, as Shirah turned to him. "These are more like... fairies."

"Like the ones in Gibbs's backyard?" Tim chuckled softly. After Shirah had been born, Gibbs had started cleaning his house out- he'd given the living room and upstairs fresh coats of paint- still leaving Kelly's room untouched, however- and had even built a swing set that he'd put up in the backyard for when she got older. And among the flowers he'd planted and the trees that grew, he'd placed tiny carved pieces of furniture, and added a door at the base of one of the trees.

When Shirah had gotten old enough to understand- Yoni had come along by then, and Ziva had been pregnant with Nahara- Gibbs had taken the girls out to the backyard, telling them the stories of the fairies and how they were not to disturb the, for fairies liked children, particularly little girls, and were prone to kidnapping them. Though they would be allowed to leave small morsels, under no circumstances were they to open the doors attached to the trees, lest they be sucked through and into the land of the fairies, never to return to the land of the living. Of course, Shirah had promptly burst into tears, clinging to her mother, who had reassured her that as long as she listened to Gibbs and followed his rules, she'd be okay.

Tim glanced at his wife. "Kind of. Shirah, you're supposed to be in bed-"

But the girl shook her head, muttering something about not sleeping, and after a moment, Tim sighed as the girl curled further into her mother's arms, making it clear that, for the night, she wasn't going anywhere.


	10. Chapter 10

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

**A/N: About Ziva's never having caught chickenpox as a child: _everyone_ in my 4th grade class came down with it, except for me. It does happen. It's just really rare when it does.- Licia**

_Washington, D.C.,_

_Georgetown,_

_Two Months Later_

Four in the morning. Why_ the hell_ did he have to get up and go for a run at four every morning? Because it had been the one thing that got his mind to stop running when he was growing up in Israel- John would go out for a run at four every morning, and he allowed Tim to go with him, from the time the boy was Shirah's age. It was the one time of the day when John wasn't an Ambassador, he wasn't trying to negotiate peace or mingle with dignitaries from other countries, he was a father. It was the one time of the day Tim got to see his father before he came home from work, before the exhaustion of the job etched itself on his face and the weight of the world was once more placed on his shoulders. It was the few hours before he became the Ambassador, when he was just a father.

That was why he went for a run at four every morning; because it had been Tim's time with his dad, when it was just the two of them, a father and son. And when John died, that time had died with him-

Tim looked up at the shuffling of small feet; he set the coffee pot down, going to his middle daughter. "Hey _katan_, come here." Yoni wrapped her arms around her father's neck, resting her head on his shoulder after he scooped her into his arms. "What are you doing up, huh? You don't need to be up for another couple hours." The girl shrugged, coughing. He pulled away, studying her. "You feeling all right, Yonah?"

The little girl looked up at him, before reaching up and wiping at her nose; Tim gently caught her wrist. Without a word, he set her on the counter, pushing up the sleeve of her nightgown, and instantly paled. "_Abba_?" His attention was drawn away from the girl when he heard Shirah, and turned to find Ziva behind her, Nahara in her arms. "I feel itchy." Tim met his wife's gaze.

Ziva was tired; clearly, the girls had gotten her up not long after he'd gotten up. Occasionally, she would join him, but the majority of the time she stayed home with the girls, knowing that it was Tim's time to remember those early mornings spent jogging in Israel with his father, and she didn't want to encroach. "The girls are sick. Now I am not an expert, but I think they might have-"

"Chicken pox." Tim filled in, Ziva furrowed a brow as he lifted Yoni off the counter and settled her back on his hip.

"But... how would the girls get-"

"Trust me, baby, kids can pick up anything from anywhere." He grabbed the phone, dialing Gibbs's number. "Hey, Ziva, have you had-"

"Hello?"

"No, baby, I never had-"

"Hey Boss, it's McGee. Listen, the girls are sick. They've got chickenpox, so I won't be coming in today, but Ziva will be."

"What?" Ziva shifted Nara on her hip, going to her husband. They spent several minutes arguing silently, unaware that Gibbs had, in the meantime, hung up and left the house; since he lived in Silver Spring, it didn't take him long to get to the apartment, and soon the couple were interrupted by a knock at the door. Shirah rushed to get it.

"Hi, Gibbs." Setting the phone down, Tim and Ziva rushed into the living room; Gibbs was in the doorway, a bag slung over his shoulder. He scooped Shirah up, shutting the door behind him. Without a word, he moved past the adults, headed for Shirah's room.

"You two need to get ready and head in." Tim shook his head.

"Um, Boss, we can't. We have to be here to take care of the girls-" Gibbs looked up from tucking Shirah back into bed.

"I will take care of the girls." The couple shared a glance.

"Um, Gibbs, have you ever... taken care of anyone with-"

"You can't be exposed, Ziver." Gibbs cut her off, taking Nara from her. "So go get ready for work. Both of you. And tell Tony that unless a case comes in, it's colds for the day. Got it?" He headed back towards Nara's bedroom, tucking the little girl into her bed, her parents hot on his heels. Without a word, he took Yoni from her father and headed to her room, tucking her in, hearing and ignoring Tim and Ziva's protests the entire way. Once all three children were tucked safely in their beds, he turned to the couple. "You've never had chickenpox, have you, Ziva?"

"Well... there was an outbreak in elementary school when we were eight-years-old, but..." She glanced at Tim. "Everyone else got it; I never did."

Gibbs nodded, turning to Tim. "Both Sarah and I had."

"Which means if Ziver gets it, it could put her in Bethesda." He nodded towards the master bedroom. "Go get dressed. Let Tony know what's going on, and that I won't be in today." Minutes passed, before they did as told. He then dialed Tony, letting him know of the situation, and that they were to work cold cases unless a hot one came in.

"Gibbs?" He ended the call, turning to Nara.

"What'cha need, kid?"

"_Ima_." Gibbs smiled softly; he remembered a time when Kelly had asked the same of him; Shannon had been away visiting her mother, and Kelly had cried and whined the entire time. So he knew what the child was going through. After a moment, he took a seat on the bed beside her.

"_Ima_ has never had chickenpox, Nar. If she catches them, they'll make her very sick."

"Like us?"

"No, sweetheart. None of you will be that bad. But if a grown-up catches them, especially one who's never had them, they could end up in the hospital. So we have to make sure_ Ima_ stays away for the next week or so. Maybe _Abba_ would be willing to take _Ima_ away for a while, so they can spend time together, while you three get better."

"But whose... care of us?" She asked, coughing. Gibbs chuckled.

"I am."


	11. Chapter 11

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

**Thanks to MusicWithinMe for reviewing 10. I'm glad you like it, and don't worry about it- I studied Hebrew in high school and spent a couple years studying abroad in high school in Tel Aviv. After high school, life caught up with me, so I'm- sadly- really, really rusty. I will keep that in mind, thanks.- Licia.**

Once Tim and Ziva were gone, Gibbs checked on the girls before going into the kitchen. He poured a cup of coffee and went into the living room; there was a documentary on about the Marines; though Gibbs had been a sniper in the Corps, he didn't know much about the history of it, sadly. He must have dozed off, because two hours later, he awoke, head back against the sofa, mouth open.

Something pounded against the floor, and he staggered to his feet, making his way into the kitchen. "Wha-?"

He found one of the chairs from the dining table pushed against the counter, a box of cereal on the floor, the small crunchy dinosaurs having escaped the bag to populate the ground at his feet. Yoni sat on the counter, looking ready to burst into tears.

Gibbs rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "You're s'psed to be in bed, kiddo."

The six-year-old's lower lip quivered. "_Slicha_, Gibbs." She sniffled, holding her doll close. "Hungry."

"You're hungry, huh?" He asked, going to the little girl and scooping her up. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he looked around, glancing at the cereal spilled on the floor before looking back at the child in his arms. Instead of looking after their girls like he'd promised he would, he'd dozed off, leaving the three children to their own devices. Luckily, it looked like only Yoni was up-

"Gibbs? What is going on?"

Never mind.

He turned to find Shirah in the doorway, _Brogan_ in one hand, Nara on her hip. He sighed; the spots that signaled chickenpox were bright and irritated against their soft, mixed skin. "Yoni's hungry. So, how 'bout I fix breakfast for everyone, okay?" The girls nodded, and he set the six-year-old down. "Go on into the living room."

With them in the other room, he turned to the spilled cereal. After cleaning up the mess, Gibbs returned the chair to the dining table and turned his attention to the task at hand. What could he possibly make three, sick little girls at home with chickenpox? Soup came to mind first, the obvious choice, but they needed more sustenance than that. Sighing, he made his way into the living room, to find all three girls curled up on the sofa under a blanket, watching a documentary on the Romanovs. "What do you want for-" Without a word, he picked up the remote.

"_Abba_ and_ Ima_ let us watch History Channel, Gibbs." Shirah said, hugging _Brogan_ close beneath the blanket. "Besides, cartoons are boring." He raised an eyebrow, but then decided to let it go. This was Tim and Ziva- they were anything if not protective of their girls, but also made certain that they learned, about everything. Books, documentaries, stories, anything and everything became a teaching tool; part of it was because their parents were both _beyond_ exceedingly brilliant and part of it was because they themselves had always turned to books and documentaries for comfort, when they hadn't- or hadn't been able to- turned to each other.

Gibbs sighed, thinking. "Yep, I hear you, kiddo. Cartoons just haven't been the same since _Dudley Do-Right_ went off the air." All three girls turned wide, confused grey-green eyes to him. He waved it away. "Before your time. Even before your parents' time." He set the remote down, turning to them. "Now, what do you want for breakfast?"

Silence filled the air, and after a moment, Nara suggested,

"Panscapes?"

Gibbs chuckled softly. Kelly had the same problem pronouncing 'spaghetti' and 'dwarf'- had she grown to adulthood, she still would have said them wrong; children often didn't grow out of such silly notions easily. They were stubborn, and that stubbornness would get them through life. "Any objections?" Yoni and Shirah shook their heads. "Okay. Panscapes it is."

So he set to work on breakfast; it took him a few minutes- mainly because Tim and Ziva kept everything stocked; they had three growing little girls, it was normal, whereas Gibbs had only the necessities and some steaks in his kitchen fridge and freezer- but eventually, he had everything out and made. "Girls, break-" He stopped; all three were curled up on the sofa, sound asleep. He sighed; the last thing he wanted to do was wake them, but they had to eat, so he went to them, shaking them gently. Three sets of small eyes opened. "Come on girls, your panscapes are getting cold."

They ate in silence, Gibbs keeping a firm eye on them, to make sure they didn't play with their food; he needn't have worried though; Tim and Ziva had raised the girls right, and even at their tender ages, they were well-behaved, asking before they got up from the table, saying 'thank you' and 'please' and helping clear the dishes when breakfast was done.

With breakfast done, Gibbs tucked each girl back into her bed, promising to be there when they woke up. Expecting to have a little peace and quiet now that the girls were asleep, he headed back into the kitchen, pouring another cup of coffee and making his way into the living room. He should have thought to bring a few pieces of wood to work on while the girls slept-

Instead, he wandered into the small study area; a moment passed, as he searched the bookshelves, finally finding one that looked interesting. He returned to the living room, settling on the sofa and opening it up- it took him two chapters to realize the book he'd grabbed was Tim's. He quickly checked the back cover- yep, there was Tim's photograph at the bottom, along with a short bio. Gibbs was surprised the young agent hadn't said anything about writing a novel, let alone said anything about it to the rest of the team. He quickly checked the copyright date.

Two-thousand-ten.

So he'd published it seven years ago- and if Gibbs's math was correct, that had been around the time Ziva got pregnant with Yoni. Come to think of it, he remembered Ziva saying something that night at the bar about a book being published, but neither had elaborated on the subject. And then, four weeks later, Ziva and Tim had come to him; all Tim had done was rest his hands on his wife's abdomen, and the message was clear.

The rush of small feet in the hallway brought his attention from their father's novel, and Gibbs marked his place, setting the book down before getting up. He found the girls curled up together in their parents' bed, the multitude of pillows creating a small border around them. "Are you supposed to be in Mommy and Daddy's room?" When none of the girls replied, he nodded, going to the bed and scooping Nara up. "Come on, back to your own beds. Let's go, girls." Yoni followed obediently, but Shirah kicked out at the older man when he went back to get her.

"No!"

He sighed. "Shirah, you can't sleep in your parents' bed. You have your own."

"_Abba_ and_ Ima_ let us sleep with them."

"But they're at work right now."

It took some time, but eventually Gibbs managed to get the girls into their own beds- despite Shirah's protests- and finally, he settled back on the sofa, taking Tim's book up again and continuing where he left off. Soft rustling however, pulled him from the novel, and he looked up to find the girls standing in front of him, huddled together. Shirah held out_ Dovekeepers_ and Gibbs furrowed a brow. "What's this, kiddo?"

The girl didn't say a word, she just pushed it into Gibbs's lap before climbing up beside him. Gibbs quickly flipped to the back cover, reading it. He'd heard of the book, but had never read it. "Your parents read this to you?"

Shirah looked up at him. "They read it to each other, and let us listen. Please, Gibbs? Please?"

Yoni climbed up and settled on his other side, resting her head against his arm. "Please?" He glanced between Shirah and Yoni; he wouldn't cave-

Nara tugged on his pants leg. "Please, we wants hear the end."

He groaned, scooping the child up and settling her on his lap. "Okay, where did _Abba_ and _Ima_ leave off?" Shirah quickly flipped the book open, pointing to a paragraph. " Okay._ 'Did they not take note of the unusual color of Aziza's eyes? The shade not unlike the Salt Sea, changing with her mood, now gray, now green, now dark as stone. Only one other person had such eyes. At the mention of Ben Ya'ir's wife, Shirah was struck with grief. When I spoke of Channa's illness, however, she did not sem surprised.'_"

He looked up at soft snoring, to find all three girls fast asleep against him.


	12. Chapter 12

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

**Thanks to Reader aka Sun Samurai for reviewing 9, 10 and 11.**

Tony looked up from his work; it was quiet.

_Too_ quiet.

A quick glance at his partners told him why: while both _were_ working on the cold cases they'd been assigned, occasionally, one of them would glance at their cell or reach for the desk phone, pick it up, start to dial, and then stop. He knew their concern- the girls had been sick before, but never all at once; it usually went in cycles in the McGee home.

One of the girls would get it, be down for a week or a few days, give it to one of her sisters, get better. It would go from one child to the next, to the next, to their parents each, and then leave, having taken down each member of the family for a short period of time, leaving the others to care and worry about whichever one was sick at the moment.

So this, being the first time that all_ three_ of the girls were home sick with something, they were bound to triple in worry. Especially since Ziva had never been exposed to the childhood disease.

He watched the young mother reach once more for her cell. "You've really never had chickenpox, Ziva?"

"No." She didn't look up from dialing the home number, but hesitated over the send button. "Tim had it; everyone else in school, even Tali and Ari, but I never did, and I was around my brother and sister all the time."

"You'd think she'd be the first to get it." Tim murmured, raising his arms over his head and stretching before returning to his work. Tony chuckled.

"They'll be fine, Ziva. They're in good hands. Gibbs will keep them under control." It was then that Ziva met his gaze. Tim even looked up from his work this time.

"It's not Gibbs keeping control that we're worried about, Tony." He replied. "It's the girls _taking_ it."

"Why would they-"

"You have never been around any of them when they have been sick." Ziva added. "They are not like normal children when they get sick."

"Every child is normal when they get sick, Ziva. A little more whiny, a little quieter, but still, normal." Tony furrowed a brow, thinking. "Wait. What'd you mean?"

The couple shared a glance. "Tony, you know the girls... basically have you wrapped around their little fingers?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, but I'm their uncle. I'm the cool one, that says yes when you both tell them no. What's that got to do with anything, McGee?"

The couple glanced at each other. Seriously? He thought he was the 'cool' one? If only he knew what the girls really thought of him, and how _Palmer_ of all people had dethroned him-

"Well when they're sick... that doubles. Ten-fold. They don't whine, they don't cry like most children who are sick do."

"Well, they _do_, just... we do not allow it to get out of control." Ziva put in.

" Ours," He glanced at his wife, who sat back, coffee in hand. "Ours talk. And they try and play dirty. It doesn't work, because we know all their tricks. And that, I_ know_ they get from their mother." Ziva lifted her chin.

"You did not seem to be complaining-"

"My point_ is_," Tim replied, cutting Ziva off. "That I don't think Gibbs knows _exactly_ what the girls are like. He's never been around them when they're sick. We have."

"But Ziva's never had-"

"We_ know_." Tim glanced at his wife; she was checking her phone again. "But that doesn't mean we stop being parents just because we're away from them. No matter what, the girls take priority. And I'm sorry if that's a problem with work, but that's the way it is."

Ziva, meanwhile, had slipped away from her desk, calling the apartment. When there was no response on the other end, she ended the call and rushed back into the bullpen. "Baby, what's wrong?"

"No one is picking up. Tim, what if something happened? What if the girls-"

Tony watched as Tim stood, going to her." The girls are probably just asleep-"

"If they are, that is fine, but that should be no excuse for Gibbs not picking up, Tim. It is_ Gibbs_."

The worry in Ziva's voice got Tony up and moving, and he quickly gathered his things. "Come on." The couple turned to him. "Come on, we're gonna go check on the girls, make sure they're okay."

"Tony-" But the senior agent held up a hand.

"Look, you're worried, I get that. Besides, we're only going through cold cases, and it's late. You should be home with your babies."

"What about Shep-"

"I'll take care of Shepard. Go on." With a quick kiss to his cheek, Ziva gathered her things and took Tim's hand, tugging him towards the elevator. As the doors closed behind the pair, Tony looked up, seeing Shepard watching from the catwalk. He ducked his head, but was surprised when her voice tugged his gaze back up.

"I may not have kids, Agent DiNozzo, but I know the worry in a mother's voice when I hear it. Call Tim and Ziva and tell them they have the rest of the week off to care for the girls." Then, without another word, she was gone.

Half an hour later, Tim unlocked the door, pulling Ziva in behind him. As the door to their apartment closed behind them, they dropped their gear by the coat closet; Ziva made a beeline for the bedrooms, her heart in her throat when she realized all three beds were empty. "The girls are not in their beds or ours-" She stopped, seeing Tim standing in front of the sofa. "What are you?" The Israeli skidded to a stop at the sight before her:

Gibbs, sitting on the sofa, with Nara on his lap, and Shirah and Yoni curled up on either side of him, all sound asleep; _The Dovekeepers_ was open on the floor, and there was drool at the edge of their boss's mouth.

Ziva covered her mouth to keep from laughing. "What do we do?" However Tim just glanced at her and lifted his phone, snapping a couple photographs of the girls and Gibbs, before attaching one of the photos to a text message. "Timothy!"

"Tony's going to love this."


	13. Chapter 13

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

**Thanks to amiebeca for reviewing 12.**

_Tel Aviv,_

_Israel,_

_The Ruins of Masada, _

_2019_

"Can you imagine standing at this wall and looking out, and seeing the Romans at the base of the Snake Trail?" Nahara turned to her father; balanced on his hip, she had the best view of her sisters, able to see for miles over the crumbling walls that surrounded them; years had come and gone, and in that time, Sarah had graduated college and started dating a Navy Lieutenant named Roy Sanders that worked as an inspector for the IAEA- the International Atomic Energy Agency.

She had also written and published her first book- a novel about Masada, and a young archaeologist's discovery of the ancient ruins and how the discovery of a mosaic within the North Palace was able to transport her back to the time of the siege, where she fell in love with the leader of the rebels, Eleazar ben Ya'ir- crafted fictionally from Aunt Nettie's writings. Tim had also written another couple novels, and he often held it over Sarah's head that she had only written and published one when he had published three- she was healthy competition after all.

_"Lama?"_

Tim chuckled softly, glancing at his wife. Summer had arrived, and the family was spending time in Israel with Eli; they'd made a point of coming to Masada- not only so the girls could see the once magnificent fortress, but also so they could be there for the dedication. In two-thousand ten, a year after Nettie's death, her fellow archaeologists had gotten together and chipped in; they had created a wing of the museum to house Nettie's findings, giving her story and the story of Masada through an archaeologist's eyes- nearly ten years later, it was finished and finally opened.

And when they'd walked the Snake Trail, the girls had insisted on walking it with them, listening to stories of Nettie's first time seeing the massive mountain at which the ruins sat- for she had passed all her stories down, making sure they were written down and kept in notebooks. They had celebrated two birthdays before leaving for Israel, and had celebrated one not long after they were arrived, of which Tony had freaked out, insisting that there was no way his beloved nieces were growing up; it meant, in short terms, that he himself was getting old.

"Why what, Shiraleh?" Ziva asked, adjusting her _palla_. While she, Tim and Sarah had dressed as they had always dressed when they came to Masada with Nettie- in the gypsy-type clothing worn by locals- the girls had dressed themselves in shorts and light t-shirts and sneakers. Only Shirah wore any sort of head-covering- having found Ziva's emerald green _hijab_ before they left for Israel. She had quickly taken possession of the scarf, wearing it everywhere in Tel Aviv, to the point where her parents had to wrestle the article of fabric from her small, ten-year-old hands.

"Why would they be up here?"

Tim turned to her, shifting the six-year-old on his hip. "Who?"

Nara tugged on her father's shirt, and he turned back to her as she whispered, "The Jews."

After a moment, Ziva knelt down, meeting her daughter's gaze. "Do you know how we read_ Dovekeepers_ every night?" The girl nodded. "Well, this where _Dovekeepers_ takes place. And... all these people were up here in this fortress, because they were being chased by the Romans. Do you remember what we learned about the Romans?"

"They were a powerful empire in Greece and ruled the world." Yoni whispered, as Ziva wrapped her arm around the eight-year-old and pulled her close. She thought a moment, before shrugging.

"For the most part, yes. And by being a big, powerful empire, meant they wanted every other empire to not exist. And one of those empires was Judea. Remember the documentary we watched on Judea?" The girls nodded. "Well, these people, that lived here at Masada- they were the last of survivors of Judea, and they stayed for nearly_ three years_ on this mountain, holding back the Romans."

"Because the Romans did not want the Jews to live because they believed differently than anyone else. Right, _Ima_?" Ziva bit her lip, glancing at her husband, who shrugged; though he'd grown up in Israel with Ziva, he didn't know much about the history of Judaism; religion wasn't really discussed in their household, and so any questions Tim had had in regards to either Catholicism or Judaism, were never asked. She turned back to Yoni.

"Kind of." She stopped. "And those people, those ancient Jews, they lived up here, for three years, and when the Romans began to breach the wall, the Jews killed themselves."

"_Lama_?" Shirah furrowed a brow at her sister's question.

"But... _Ima_ you said that killing yourself is a sin in our religion. That... you could... go to Hell."

"I know."

"Then why did they do it?"

Ziva sighed, struggling to think. Why did people murder? Why did priests molest children? Why did teenagers go into their own high schools and kill classmates? Why did countries go to war? Though her daughter's question was the simplest of all of questions, it was still the hardest to answer because it could be answered two ways.

"Well, they knew that if they lived, and the Romans breached the wall, they would all be taken prisoner and carted back to Rome as slaves. But if they died, then when the Romans came over the wall," She shrugged. "So they chose death. And even though it was a sin, death was better than falling into Roman hands. And there is no definitive proof that they committed suicide. Many historians think that it was a massacre, and then the last man that was alive killed himself, so that he would take on the sins of the slaughtered and face the Devil himself because of their sins, that Masada and the massacre was a stand against oppression, and others believe that is a warning of extremism and that it shows how, when faced with a certain situation, people will refuse to compromise."

"Oh." The girls were silent for a moment, before Shirah asked,

"_Ima_, what do you believe?"


	14. Chapter 14

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

**Thanks to Reader aka Sun Samurai for reviewing 12 and 13 and amiebeca for reviewing 13.**

Ziva bit her lip, thinking. She glanced at Tim, who gave her a small smile, and set Nara back on her feet. "What does she believe about Masada? Or Judaism in general?"

Shirah thought a moment. "Masada."

The couple shared a glance. "Well, I believe that... that these people faced desperate circumstances. I think they faced a horrible fate at the hands of the Romans, and I think that in order to preserve their faith and... and their identity, they chose to face death on their own terms. I believe that desperation can lead to actions that may not necessarily be what the person would do when thinking rationally. I think, that the Jews that were here at Masada had weighed their options, and finding surrender would not be possible because of who was after them, that the next best thing was death, because with death, they would not face such horrible atrocities as they would have at the hands of the Romans. I think they chose the choice that was best for them, and best for their people at the time. Now that does not make it right, what they did, but they chose it anyway, because it meant they would not suffer at Roman hands. Every choice you make has to be made with your best interest in mind, not just up here," She tapped her own temple. "But down here as well." Her fingers tapped gently against her heart. "If you know that the choice you are making is right in your heart _and_ your mind, then you can never go astray. Okay?"

The girls nodded, and after a moment, rushed when Eli called to them, showing them the mosaic Nettie had found in sixty-eight; Sarah and Roy followed, listening as Eli told the girls all about Nettie's excavations and discoveries. Tim and Ziva watched them disappear into the thermal baths, finally alone. She turned to him. "Shirah is going to give all her history teachers-"

"Hell?" Tim suggested, meeting her gaze.

She grinned, her nose wrinkling. "_Ken_." She turned to him, sliding her arms around his waist. "Absolute hell." She rose up on her toes, meeting him halfway, before taking his hand and tugging him along. They wandered the ruins, recalling stories Nettie had told them-

"Oh, Tim," She stopped, tugging gently on his hand to pull him back.

"What is it?"

"Look." They stood before the remains of the Byzantine church, the single window still within the last standing, facing wall. She glanced at him, before moving forward. "Remember this?" She turned to face him, holding loosely to his hand as she walked backwards, her sandals lightly kicking up centuries old dust as she moved. They stopped near the window; Tim furrowed a brow, thinking. "The photograph, on our bookcase? You do not remember?" A moment passed, before he chuckled, nodding, and she grinned. "You_ do_ remember."

"I asked you to... be my girlfriend. And you said that-"

"I thought I already was." She giggled, reaching up to take his face in her hands as his moved to grasp her waist. He chuckled softly, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before resting his forehead to hers. "What are you thinking, baby?"

"Just... that Nettie would have loved our girls."

Ziva smiled softly, brushing her thumb over his cheekbone. "She does love our girls, Tim. I know she does."

He pulled away, meeting her gaze. A moment passed, before she rose onto her toes; they met in the middle, a soft kiss that soon turned deep and needy. She tugged him closer, feeling his arms tighten around her waist, lifting her briefly off the ground. The_ palla_ she wore slipped down the back of her head, exposing her dark hair to the sun above, and after a moment, she reached down, sliding an arm around his shoulders.

Twenty minutes later, Eli and Sarah were leading the others to the church, when they stopped. Sarah giggled softly, a blush coloring her cheeks at the sight of her brother and sister-in-law, wrapped in each others' arms. She quickly pulled out her phone, managing to get a shot as Tim slowly broke the kiss. It was a moment, caught forever in time, and Sarah couldn't help thinking that such a scene had come straight from _Dovekeepers_.

"_Ima! Abba!_" The girls pulled away from their grandfather, rushing towards their parents, and the moment Sarah had captured was broken. Tim turned, kneeling down and scooping his girls into his arms when they got close.

"What do you say we go see the synagogue, hm?" The girls nodded, and Tim scooped Nara up, settling her on his hip as Shirah and Yoni took their mother's hands. They soon found themselves on the steps of the synagogue; Eli and Roy were sitting on the steps with the girls, telling them stories and keeping them entertained, while their parents and Aunt Sarah slipped off to the opposite end, talking softly together.

"What do we do? We haven't been back here since Auntie died. How... how do we tell them about her?" Ziva reached out, rubbing her sister's back. She shrugged. They had told the girls the basics about Nettie; that she had been an archaeologist, that she'd excavated at Masada for forty-six years, and that she had dedicated her life to maintaining and keeping the memory of Masada alive. Ziva swallowed, pulling Sarah close. "They'll never know what an amazing woman Auntie was, or... or how she would light up whenever she talked about her excavations or..." She swallowed, curling into Ziva's side. Her sister-in-law pressed a firm kiss to her head, wrapping her other arm around her waist. "How do we explain this to them? They're_ little girls_-"

Tim glanced over his shoulder at his daughters, before turning back to his sister. He slipped his bag off his shoulder, pulling something out of it. He glanced at the girls, raising an eyebrow. "I think I know how."


	15. Chapter 15

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

_Tel Aviv,_

_Tzahala,_

_Israel_

_Two Weeks Later_

"This is... encouraged... during _Shabbat_..." She moaned deeply in the back of her throat as his tongue teased the nipple of her breast. "but... only between a husband... wife... I do not... remember why, but... I am glad it is..." Her back hit the bed roughly, jolting them both, even as he slid his hands up to catch her wrists, holding her arms over her head.

"Ziva," He took a moment to catch his breath, meeting her gaze. _"Shut. Up." _

She grinned, lifting her head. "_Make me, Timothy_."

Their mouths met in hungry, desperate kisses, and soon he released her hands to snake his arms around her waist and pull her close. She slid one foot up his leg, her toes brushing along the sensitive seam of his sac. She giggled, and in one quick movement, they'd swapped places. She watched him as she sat straddling his waist, her dark hair a silky veil scented with jasmine. As she moved back, getting adjusted, she found him watching her-

"See something you like, Timothy?"

He shook his head. "All of it, Ziva." His hands moved from her hips up her back, tracing patterns over the tattoo that covered her skin. How Eli didn't know about it, Tim had no clue. If Ziva had gotten it after Tali died-

"You... are not... supposed to be... thinking, Timothy." Her voice pulled him from his thoughts as she took him into her, adjusting until she got comfortable. A moment passed, as she down against him, relaxing, enjoying the closeness and the familiarity of him being inside her. Slowly, she lifted her head, meeting his gaze. "Hey."

"Hi." They shared a soft kiss, before he expertly flipped them over, pushing Ziva back into the mattress.

When she awoke an hour later, it was to feel Tim curled on top of her, his face nestled into her hair; she was pressed into the mattress on her stomach, and his arms were around her shoulders. She lifted her head, glancing over her shoulder as he pushed himself up, slowly getting off her so as not to wake her. "What time is it?"

He yawned, stretching, before grabbing his cell and checking the time. "Almost seven." She nodded, yawning, before snuggling into his side and resting her head on his shoulder. He settled down beside her, wrapping an arm around her waist... and then shot up, eyes widening. "_Oh, God, Ziva, we're late! Gibbs is gonna kill us-_"

But she just grabbed his arm, tugging on him. "Tim... Tim, baby, calm down. _Tim!_ We are not in D.C., we are in Tel Aviv, remember?" He turned back to her; it was clear, the confusion in his eyes and she sighed. "Summer holiday, the girls are out of school. We are spending the month here, do you not remember?" As if to jog his memory, she added, "It is _Shabbat_; everyone normally sleeps in. We do not get up early, except when we are on rotation. Remember?" A moment passed, before a flicker of realization filled his eyes, and he nodded.

"Right, sorry. I just..." He swallowed, shaking his head. "Gibbs has drilled four a.m. call into my head for so long-"

"I know, baby. But Gibbs cannot get us to come in even if he did call today. We are clear in Israel, there is nothing he can do." She reached up, sliding an arm around his neck. "Come here, baby. Come _here_." She growled playfully, tugging until his mouth met hers.

Three hours later, after having taken a quick shower and gotten dressed, the couple slipped down the stairs of the two-story house arriving early at the small summer home in Tzahala that Eli owned; all three remembered spending summers there, and were delighted to find that the neighborhood hadn't changed much since their teenage years.

Eli, coffee pot in hand, looked up as his daughter and son-in-law came into the kitchen; both had a look of exhausted satisfaction on their faces and he chuckled softly. Oh how he remembered the times he and Rivka would spend the better part of the _Shabbat_ morning making love- both before and after the girls were born. He sighed. It was traditions like this, holidays and birthdays and family gatherings that his heart ached the most, when he longed to reach up and pull Rivka from the heavens, back into the land of the living. "Zivaleh, _boker tov_."

Ziva sighed, making her way towards him. "_Abba, boker_." She pressed a kiss to his cheek, taking the coffee pot from him and pouring herself a cup. A moment passed, before Tim joined them, struggling to stifle a yawn. He whispered the greeting, taking Ziva's cup when she offered it and taking as sip. He kissed her quickly before pouring a cup for himself. Eli chuckled.

"Is my fiery daughter wearing you out,_ ben_?"

"No,_ Abba_, I'm fine." He replied, slipping an arm around Ziva's waist.

"It is just the water in him, _Abba_." Ziva replied, looking up at her husband. "He has so much it constantly relaxes him, even when he does not_ want_ to be relaxed." She grinned, and Tim raised an eyebrow.

"And you have so much fire in you, it's a wonder you don't set the house ablaze, what with your constant need to move and do anything that doesn't require sitting down."

She glared at him, and he returned it, setting his mug down and sliding his other arm around her waist. Eli watched as the two seemed to get into a staring contest, each waiting for the other to cave in and blink. He chuckled; he remembered them as children, doing the same thing when they couldn't agree on what game to play or movie to watch. The staring contest would have lasted another five minutes if something hadn't been dropped upstairs, followed by a screech and something like a body hitting the floor.

Tim turned, suddenly concerned one of the girls had gotten hurt- "Ha! I win!" He turned back to her.

"How is that a win? Didn't you hear the walls they're knocking down upstairs?" She pulled away, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I won, Timothy, deal with it."

He shook his head. "No way. I was distracted." Eli watched in silence as the two seemed to revert back to children or teenagers, all culminating in- and he didn't understand_ why_ Ziva found the childish game so exciting, but she always played it with such... enthusiasm- a game of rock, paper, scissors. Of course, Ziva, being Ziva-

"_God, do you have to be so rough?_" The Mossad director chuckled, watching as his daughter slid her arms around her husband's waist. She looked up at him, tossing her hair over her shoulder, a smile on her face.

"I am sorry, baby. It is the fire in me. I did not mean to hurt you. Can you forgive me, Tim?"

He chuckled softly, sliding his arms around her waist and tugging her to him, locking her in place against his chest. "How could I not forgive you? I love you."

Her smile grew, and she whispered the words back to him as he leaned down, catching her mouth in his.


	16. Chapter 16

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

Sarah came downstairs thirty minutes later, rubbing her head. Her hair was damp and her clothing stuck to her body, clearly indicating she'd just gotten out of the shower. She stopped, at the sight of her brother and sister-in-law.

"What happen, _Sarit_? You okay?" Ziva asked, glancing at her husband, who shrugged.

The younger girl nodded, rubbing her head. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... slipped getting out of the shower and ended up pulling the shower door off its hinges as I fell back into the tub. Roy's fixing it now." She stopped as Tim made his way towards her, checking her over quickly, of which- silently- she was grateful for.

"Did you just miss your footing?" He asked, quickly checking that she hadn't damaged anything in her hip or back. "Just a couple bruises, you should be fine. I _told_ you to be careful."

She glared at him. "I was. I just wasn't expecting to slip on the stuffed purple elephant left on the floor."

Eli furrowed a brow, before realizing what she meant. "You slipped on Brogan." Sarah nodded. Ziva sighed, meeting her husband's gaze.

"Shiraleh?" When she got no answer from the little girl, she went to the base of the stairs. "Shirah." No response. "_Shirah Kathleen McGee_, you get _down here now_! _Ach'shav!_" Slowly, the little girl appeared at the head of the stairs, the purple elephant in question in her arms.

"But _Ima_-"

"Come down here now, Shirah."

"But-"

"_Shirah, ach'shav_."

Slowly, the girl did as told, her sisters quickly following. Once she was at the bottom of the stairs, Ziva knelt before her, meeting the child's eyes. "What have_ Abba_ and I_ told you_ about leaving Brogan on the floor?"

"That... someone could fall and get hurt." She sniffled, clearly upset that Sarah had gotten hurt. "But I did not mean to. I had to brush Brogan's teeth, or he will get cavities."

"So you_ sat_ on the floor and brushed his teeth?" Sarah asked, going to the counter and pouring a cup of coffee. Shirah turned to her aunt, her voice matter-of-fact as she spoke, as though she were telling her aunt what she'd done at school that day.

"He is scared of the counter. Afraid of heights."

Ziva pinched the bridge of her nose, murmuring oaths under her breath. "Shirah, you are _too old_ to be playing games like this."

The girl turned back to her. "But_ Ima_-"

"No. Brogan is not a person, he is a _stuffed elephant_. He is a toy." The child pouted, clearly not liking what her mother had to say. She tried pulling away, but Ziva gently tightened her hold on her daughter's hands. "And you are ten-years-old, Shiraleh. You are _too_ old to be playing make believe."

The rest of the kitchen was silent for a moment, before Shirah glanced at her sisters and then turned back to her mother. "But_ Ima_, that is not _fair_! Yoni and Nara-"

"Yoni and Nara are _younger_ than you." Ziva stopped, thinking of Tali, and the trouble she herself had gotten into when she was no older than Shirah. Only in that instance, Tali had ended up in the hospital with a broken arm, and Rivka had reamed her for two hours about the stunt she'd pulled and how, if she'd been five minutes later, it could have killed her sister. To this day, Ziva didn't remember the incident, but she remembered Rivka's anger, her fear. It was the only time her mother had ever been rough with her, but it had gotten the message across. "You are a role model for them. They follow your example because they're younger. And Si-si... Si-si could have gotten _seriously_ hurt- thank God she was not- but she could have. Is that what you would have wanted? For Si-si to end up in hospital?"

The girl shook her head, tears in her eyes. "N.._ no_..."

"Ziva. _Ziva_," She looked up as Tim made his way towards her, resting a hand on her shoulder. Nara was settled on his hip, silent. "Baby, this isn't Israel. Well, I mean... it is, but... but we aren't _raising_ the kids here. They don't have to grow up as fast as we did. They can be children." Tim set Nara down, sighing. "Shirah made a mistake; Sarah isn't hurt. Everything's okay. All right?"

A moment passed, before Ziva slowly nodded and let go of the girl. Shirah promptly rushed from her mother, throwing her arms around her father's legs, and slowly, Tim knelt down. "Hey, it's okay. _Ima_ was just worried about Si-si..."

Slowly, Ziva stood, running a hand through her hair. She excused herself quickly, slipping back into the living room and outside into the back patio; for the house wasn't exactly built like other houses- the living room, normally in the front of the house, was at the back, with the dining room and kitchen at the front, and the bedrooms upstairs.

Half an hour later, Tim slipped out back; Ziva was sitting on the edge of the deck- for her father had had a small stone deck built that led down three steps to a small garden, grassy area and koi pond. He sighed, seeing the familiar ring of smoke circling overhead briefly before dissipating. He joined her, sighing. "I thought you gave up smoking when you got pregnant with Shirah." She met his gaze.

"I did not give it up; I never started. And I did not allow you to smoke in the apartment when I was pregnant. And you did not. You have not touched them since, even when I _know_ there were times when you desperately wanted one."

He chuckled softly, taking the cigarette from her. "Yes, well, the girls are no longer in your womb, and all such stress is in the past."

She reached out, taking his hand and squeezing. "I did not mean to snap today, I just..." She watched him take another drag on the cig, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. "Sarah could have been seriously hurt, and Shirah needs to understand that she is not going to remain a child forever."

"But Shirah is still a child, baby. Until she hits her teens... and I meant what I said. We aren't raising them here." She reached over, taking the cigarette back and slipping it between her lips. "We're raising them in America; that's a thousand miles away from Israel and the violence we grew up around."

"There was Nine-Eleven." He met her gaze.

"But that was years ago, and as far as the girls know, it's part of the distant past, like the Romanovs or the second war." He rested his forehead to hers. "We will be okay, baby. It's the_ Shabbat_, we'll have dinner tonight, and spend the rest of the week with _Abba_ and then head back home, so the girls can get ready for the new school year. Everything will be fine." He kissed her, and Ziva glanced back towards the house, her stomach knotting.


	17. Chapter 17

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

**Thanks to Reader aka Sun Samurai for reviewing 14 and 15 and amiebeca for reviewing 16.**

The kitchen smelled of baking _challah_, and the table was set, the candles waiting to be lit. As the food was brought and laid out at the table, Eli turned to his daughter, his last surviving blood relative. A moment passed, before he stood, looking around at his family, before his gaze landed on his daughter and son-in-law. They had been through so much, seen so much in their young lives-

"It has been... a while, since we have had _Shabbat_ dinner like this." He glanced at the girls, who sat fidgeting in their seats. Ziva reached over, gently tapping Shirah's knee with a look that instantly stopped the girl. Eli chuckled. "Generations have been born," He glanced at his three granddaughters, who sat watching him with wide, silent grey-green eyes. "and generations have been lost."

Ziva caught Tim's hand, squeezing gently under the table; she knew that her father was talking of John, and Tali and Ari and Nettie and Rivka and Kathleen... of the children Tali would never have, the woman Ari would never marry... the lives still needed living by Rivka, John and Kathleen, and the life Nettie had never lived for the choices she'd made. And Eli had spoken of her and Tim, of the three babies they'd made, those beautiful, wild little girls that sat at table with them. And Sarah, and the relationship she was building with Roy-

"Normally, it would be Shirah who would say the blessing of the bread and light the candles," He chuckled, watching as his oldest granddaughter glanced at her parents and then at the covered bread across from her, blocked partially by the candles. Ziva shook her head, knowing what the girl was thinking; Shirah had asked to try the dough when she'd been making it, and Ziva had promptly said no, which, considering how the day had started, had left the girl in a small snit the rest of the evening, and at each dinner, we would rotate who said the blessing, but tonight..."

Eli sighed, glancing at the six empty chairs that still sat around the table- signifying the six missing pieces of their family, the six loved ones lost before their time. He turned back to his last surviving daughter. Rivka had been the one to teach Ziva the prayer, and he had always made the_ challah_, opting to listen to his wife's beautiful voice as she sang the blessing over the bread. Even if he never saw her again, he wanted his last memory to be what was before him- his daughter, her husband and her family; Sarah and the life she was building, the relationship she was starting with Roy; he wanted his daughter's voice- so much like her mother's- to be the last thing he would hear. He met Ziva's gaze, hearing Rivka's voice in his head.

_"It is your turn, Ziva-" _

"Ziva, say the blessing. Please."

She glanced at her husband, kissing him quickly before getting up. With a glance at her father, she picked up the matches, striking one before lighting both candles. Then, silently, she circled her hands just above the dancing flames before holding them in front of her closed eyes. Her voice rang out, sure and strong.

"_Baruch atah Adonai, eloheinu melech ha'olam,_" Her eyes snapped open, and her gaze moved to the side, where her father stood, prayer shawl over his shoulders and _yarmulke_ on. Eli smiled at her, nodding, and she closed her eyes again. "_asher kidishanu bimitzvotav,_" Her eyes opened again, and she turned her head slightly, meeting his gaze again. Eli nodded, silent, as she once more closed her eyes, finishing the prayer. "_vitzivanu lahadlik neir shel Shabbat. Amein_."

Once Ziva returned to her seat, Shirah looked around; though the food was out, no one was eating, and they'd sat through the prayer like good little girls should...

She turned, tugging on her mother's arm. "_Ima_?" But Ziva was listening to Eli as he explained the rituals of the_ Shabbat_ to Roy, and so didn't hear Shirah. A moment passed, before the girl glanced at her sisters, and then slipped out of her chair; Yoni and Nara followed, and the three dashed off towards the stairs. It was only childish giggles that stopped the voices, and Tim and Ziva turned.

"Where are the girls?" A moment of panic set in, before Eli chuckled softly.

"I think they got tired of waiting, Zivaleh." She turned to her father, sighing. Her patience worn thin with the girls' antics today, she got up, throwing her napkin onto the table. "I will be right back."

Tim grabbed her wrist, causing her to turn back. ""You want me to come-"

She shook her head, leaning down to kiss him sweetly. "Thank you, but no. I can handle our girls. If I need you, I will call, but it is not necessary." She thumbed his bottom lip before moving past the table.

"Ziva, do you want me to-" But the Israeli beauty waved away her sister-in-law's offer as she moved from the dining room to the stairs. Her feet soon pounded on the hardwood before disappearing. Tim chuckled ruefully; the girls would have a lot of apologizing ahead of them. With Ziva gone to get the girls, that left the siblings, Roy and Eli. They sat in silence for several minutes, before Sarah reached over, picking up her wine glass and taking a sip. Tim folded his arms on the table, glancing at his father-in-law.

"I'm sorry about the girls, _Abba_, they know better-"

But Tim was cut off by the shattering of glass; something sliced through his shoulder, and soon, he recognized the familiar ring of gunshots being fired. Sarah screamed, and before anyone else could react-


	18. Chapter 18

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

**Thanks to MusicWithinMe and amiebeca for reviewing 17, and Reader aka Sun Samurai for reviewing 16 and 17.**

"You _know_ better than to leave the table _without permission_, Shirah!"

The girl held Brogan protectively to her chest, but Ziva gently pried the stuffed elephant out of her hands. They'd rushed upstairs, and Shirah had made a beeline for her parents' room, sneaking the elephant from where her father had put the animal in the suitcase in the closet. _"No, Ima!" _

"_Abba_ and I took Brogan away until you learn how to be _responsible_, Shirah! That means _no_ leaving him on the floor, or anywhere someone can get hurt! And no sneaking away during dinner! I told you, you are the oldest, your sisters follow-"

The child stamped her foot in anger, cutting off her mother with a whine. She hated being the oldest. _"Not fair!" _

"_I do not care, Shirah!_ If Si-si had not caught herself today, do you know how badly-" She stopped, head snapping to the doorway as she heard something pop downstairs. Without a word, she stood, the elephant falling to the floor as she made her way to the door. Silently, Shirah snatched up the elephant, holding him close, watching as Ziva stopped in the doorway. It was silent downstairs for a moment, and just as Ziva moved to turn back to her daughters, a scream rang out, alone in the hail of gunfire that soon sounded.

"_Ima_?" She turned back to the girls; her first instincts were to protect her children, her daughters- and yet, the scream coming from downstairs, thrust her heart into her throat as she rushed to the door, holding up a hand to silence her oldest.

"Stay here."

"But_ Ima_-"

"_That is an order_, Shirah!" And without another word, she dashed downstairs, unaware that she was coming down to chaos.

The smell of gunpowder filled the room, mixing with the strong scent of could barely see for the smoke that filled the room, but she could hear; the deafening silence, the screech of tires driving away, the crying, coming from the floor of the dining room. "_Ima_?" She glanced at Shirah, who had followed her downstairs, over her shoulder. With trembling hands, she pulled her cell phone from her pocket and unlocked it, handing it to the girl.

"C... c... call... em... mergency... Shiraleh... now." The girl took the phone, trying to peek around her mother, but Ziva pushed her back towards the stairs. "Stay... stay with your sisters..."

A moment passed, before she heard her daughter speak to the operator on the phone. "My... _Ima_ said to... to call... _someone is hurt..._" Knowing that her child would do as she was told, Ziva rushed back into the dining room. It was then, with the smoke clearing, that she saw the destruction of the dining room of her parents' summer home.

Chairs knocked over, the table was still set, and though the glasses shattered, the food was still untouched and dusted with a covering of pristine crystal- her mother's wedding crystal, if she remembered correctly- the pristine white tablecloth a cross between an oasis and a death trap. One of the candles had been sliced by a bullet and lay atop the table, yet the other one still burned strong; a solitary cry for help in the darkness of the night.

She soon heard the screech of sirens, but didn't bother to rush to greet the medics. Instead, she turned her attention to her family; she knew the girls were upstairs, safe, but there was no sign of Tim and Sarah, Roy and her father-

"_Where are the fucking paremedics_?" She turned; for the first time, she could see Sarah, sitting by the table, hands pressed against Roy's chest as he lay sprawled on the floor, partially beneath the table. Quickly, Ziva dropped to her knees beside her sister; Sarah looked up at her, wild-eyed and clearly injured. Blood stained her forehead and ear, there was a growing patch on her side- not that Sarah noticed. "Roy, hang on. Hang on, sweetie, I got you. I'm right here. You stay with me."

Ziva grabbed the napkin she'd tossed off the floor, handing it to Sarah, who pressed it hard against her boyfriend's chest. "_Sarit_? Sarah, where is Tim?_ Sarah!_" She grabbed girl's shoulders, turning the other woman to face her. "_Where is my husband?_ Where is Tim? _And my father? Sarah?_"

But the woman just shook her head, mouth open. She gestured behind her, towards the front door, before turning back to Roy. Without a word, Ziva stood, searching for any sign of the two men in her life-

"_Ima_?" Ziva turned back to see Shirah in the doorway, her eyes drinking in the chaos that had become her family.

_"Go back upstairs! Ach'shav!" _

The girl moved, doing as told, only to return, hiding behind the door frame when her mother turned back to the task at hand. Ziva spied Tim near the door-

She rushed to him, nearly stumbling over him. _"Tim! Baby!"_

_"No... no..."_ But he wasn't paying attention, didn't notice the wound in his shoulder, or the blood staining his hands. Didn't hear Sarah's cries or feel Ziva's hands on his face as she moved in front of him, blocking him from whatever he was focused on.

"Baby, _look_ at me-" Tears choked her voice; she was terrified she'd lost him-

_"Move!"_ He shoved her out of the way with more force than he would ever use normally, as he rushed back to whatever had captured his attention. Ziva watched him go, before moving closer to see what her husband was so intently working on. Suddenly, she understood why Tim was so frantic. "_Hold on, Abba-_"

Her father leaned against the doorjamb, several patches of red spreading over his white shirt- patches Tim was desperately trying to stop from spreading. She shook her head, tears clogging her throat as she realized what Tim either failed or refused to. A sob escaped her throat, and she broke down, crumpling to her knees by her father's body, watching as her husband tried in vain to save her father- the two most important men in her life, the man who had brought her into the world and the man who had given her a life she loved from the moment they met. Her scream pierced the air, catching the medics as they reached the scene, catching the neighbors who had come out at the chaos, curious to see if they could do anything to help, and ripping at her husband's soul as he continued to press his hands firmly against his father-in-law's chest. _"Abba!" _

Eli's body slumped into her arms, motionless, as she stumbled back on her butt, and wrapped her arms around him. She shook him, no longer a grown woman, but that little girl in the pigtails and overalls, who had punched John McGee's son at their first meeting, who had fought as Eli and John had struggled to pull the kids apart-

"Sir... sir, please..." A couple of the medics reached down to help Tim up, but he pulled away.

"_No! No, we can't... let him die... he doesn't have..._" Tim scrambled to his father-in-law's other side, reaching over his wife's arms and pressing his hands firmly against wound in his chest. _"Come on, Abba, hang on! We're right here... Ziva and I... we're here... we've always been here... we aren't going anywhere... we're... just... hold on..."_

Through her prayers, as she held her father's head against her chest, she reached out, taking her husband's wrist. "_Baby_."

He ignored her, pressing harder on her father's chest, trying to stop the blood that had already stopped. "_Abba, hold on... please..._" She knew, that Tim was trying desperately to make up for John's death; that he felt as though he hadn't tried hard enough to make his father stay; that five years of guilt had been slowly eating her husband alive-

She tightened her hold on his wrist, tugging, knowing that he'd force his gaze away to meet hers. Another tug on the puppet strings, and his pained green eyes met hers. She shook her head, prayers still falling from her lips.


	19. Chapter 19

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

Shirah had seen everything. Had watched her mother crumble at her _Saba_'s feet, had watched as_ Abba_ kept pressing his hands to _Saba_'s chest, had watched as Si-si was forced away from Roy, as the strange people- medics, Si-si had called them- began working on her boyfriend. And now, she watched as the medics worked desperately to pull_ Abba_ away from _Saba_;_ Ima_ had gone willingly, stiffly, drained of emotion, but _Abba_ fought with them, still insisting _Saba_ could be helped.

"Shi?" The ten-year-old turned to her sisters. "What happened?" She glanced back into the dining room, hearing_ Abba_'s protests as he was yanked to his feet by the medics and taken out of the house. She bit her lip, trying to think of the best way to answer Yoni's question.

"I... I think... I think _Saba_ died." Tears began to form in Yoni's eyes, and Nara clung close-

"My girls! No, you do not understand! My girls are still-"

They looked up to see Ziva rushing over to them. "_Ima_!" She scooped Nara into her arms, settling the girl on her hip, before taking Yoni and Shirah's hands. As they returned to the front door, Ziva pressed her daughter's faces against her, so they wouldn't see the husk that had once been their grandfather.

But Shirah looked back, seeing her grandfather's body. She had never seen a body- _Abba_ and Si-si hadn't allowed them to see _Saba_ John after he died- and to see _Saba_ Eli now... it didn't _look_ like him. It wasn't their grandfather-

_"Abba!"_ Yoni rushed to Tim when they made it outside, and slowly, Tim knelt down, scooping the little girl into his arms. He lifted her into his arms, settling her on his hip; even though he winced in pain. He reached for his other girls when they got close enough, and Ziva let him pull her into his arms. She held tight to him as he broke down-

"Where is Si-si?" Shirah tugged on her mother's pants leg. "_Ima_, where is Si-si?"

A moment passed before Ziva looked down at her oldest. She bit her lip, before reaching out to grab the arm of one of the medics. She quickly described Sarah's description, and then thanked the woman, turning back to her children. "Si-si is at the hospital with Roy." She turned back to Tim. "And we need to get you there too, so we can get you checked out," She reached up, brushing her thumb along the ridge of Tim's eyebrow. She sniffled, choking on tears. "Make sure you are okay, Daddy." She rested her forehead against his, sliding her arm around his shoulder.

He pulled away, letting out a cry, struggling to keep his hold on Yoni. With the adrenaline of the moment now gone, the pain from the gunshot he'd received made itself known. He gently set Yoni down, his knees giving out-

_"Tim? Tim! Timothy! Timothy, talk to me! Tim!"_

Ziva's voice was the last sound he heard as darkness overtook him.

_Someone was stroking his hair, their fingers soft against his forehead. "Hush baby. I'm right here." _

_"Ziva..." _

_The owner of the voice chuckled softly, and after a moment, his eyes opened; Kathleen was sitting beside him in the... wherever they were. "You are like your father. Even in your sleep, you call the name of the woman you love." _

_"Mams?" Slowly, he pushed himself up, looking around. "Wh... where are we?" _

_Kathleen looked around, drinking in the blue sky above, the smooth stone walls, the grass and trees and small stone homes. "Masada." _

_"I thought... this... wouldn't it be Heaven?" _

_"Heaven is whatever you want it to be, Timothy. It can be Masada, or America or the Bogside, or even your home. It yer piece o' paradise." Her eyes filled with concern. "Why are you here, love? It's no' yer time yet."_

_Tim sat up, looking around. If this was Masada back when it had been taken over by the rebels, it was beautiful. He turned back to his mother. She was young, no older than him it seemed, her long, light auburn curls teased high and held back with a dark green headband. She wore one of her dancing dresses, the dark, emerald green accenting her pale skin and light hair. He swallowed, struggling to keep the tears at bay. "Oh, Mams-" _

_"You 'ave grown... int' a be'utiful young man, Timothy, love. And those three babies Ziva gave you-"_

_"You know about our girls?" _

_She nodded. "I've been watchin', keepin' close t' ye an' Ziva an' Sarah. Yer father an' I both 'ave."_

_Tim gave her a quick smile, before something hit him, and he remembered the events of that night. "Mams, ah... Abba is..." He shook his head, silent. "Abba is-"_

_"Dead. I know, Timothy." He furrowed a brow, confused. "Rivka has been waitin' for him, for years. She wanted him with her, and Ari and Tali." _

_"But Ziva-" _

_"Ziva has learned all she could from Eli, love. He has been there for the most important moments of her life; it was time she let him go. She does no' need her father anymore than you and Sarah needed John. Besides, Eli was ready. 'twas his time, love. Bu' it's no' yers. You 'ave my grandaugh'ers t' raise. You need to go back." _

_Tim shook his head, struggling to climb to his feet. Kathleen stood, taking his arm to steady him. "No, Mams. I... I don't want to. I... I want to stay with you."_

_Kathleen reached up, taking her son's face in his hands. "Ye can't, Timothy, love."_

_"But-"_

_"Listen to your mother, Tim. You need to go back." The young agent turned, to find his father making his way towards them; John was young, his sandy blonde hair falling just slightly into his blue eyes. Tim had seen pictures of his father when he was in college, but he hadn't really seen the resemblance until now. He'd never understood why Penny had said he was the "mirror image" of his father, but now- now he saw it, and he understood. Except for his eyes, Tim was looking in a mirror._

_"Da?" John smiled softly, reaching up to brush his thumb against his son's cheek._

_"It's good to see you again, Timothy, but this is just a visit, this isn't permanent. And it won't be, not until you're ready. And you're not ready."_

_"Yes, I am. I... want to stay, Da, please-"_

_"My daughter needs you, Timothy. My granddaughters need you." He turned, to see Eli make his way towards them, his arm around Rivka's waist._

_"You do not belong with here, Tim. Not yet. When you are ready, we will be waiting for you at the gate." Rivka replied, pulling away to go to him. She reached up, brushing her fingers over his cheek. "I could not have asked for a more wonderful, beautiful man to become my Ziva's husband. I knew, from the moment you two met, that you would always be together."_

_"Timothy, neither you nor Zivaleh are to blame for my death." Eli made his way to his son-in-law. "I knew what would happen. I was ready. But you are not. You have my granddaughters to raise and my daughter to love." He pressed a kiss to the agent's forehead. "Tell Zivaleh that I am so proud of the woman she has grown to be, and that I am sorry for everything I have done. She will understand." Then, he turned his son-in-law around, giving him a gentle push away from them. "I love you both, Timothy. That I got to see my granddaughters one final time... my death was not so difficult with them in my heart."_


	20. Chapter 20

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

_Tel Aviv Memorial_

_Tel Aviv,_

_Israel_

He awoke to the smell of antiseptic tickling his nose, the taste of it as he gasped for air making him sick to his stomach. He struggled to get up, but a soft hand on his arm stopped him, and he turned. Ziva sat beside him with Sarah perched on the edge of the bed; both had tears in their eyes. The girls were hiding behind the chair their mother sat in, frightened, worried their father would never wake up. Ziva sniffled. "Hey baby, you came back to me."

He met her gaze, before quickly glancing around the room. "Wh... where am-"

"Tel Aviv Memorial." Sarah whispered softly, sniffling. "You... you were... shot... the bullet went... through your shoulder af... after it..." His sister took a deep breath. "After it pierced your lung." She broke down then, covering her mouth with your hand. "I'm just glad you're alive, Timmy. I already lost Roy... if I'd lost you too..." She got up, going to him and pressing a kiss to his cheek before excusing herself. When she was gone, Tim turned to his wife.

"Where are the... girls?"

"Right here, _Abba_." Slowly, the three came out from behind Ziva's chair, climbing onto the bed and crawling towards him. They snuggled close, being careful of the wires that hooked their father to the machines. Ziva pulled her chair closer, reaching out to take his hand.

"Girls, can you... can you give us a minute?" After a moment, the girls got off the bed, slipping out of the room to join Sarah in the waiting room. Once they were gone, Ziva turned back to him. "I... I thought... when the doctors said... that you had a... a punctured lung, I..." She got up, climbing onto the bed and stretching out beside him. She was careful as she laid her head against his uninjured shoulder, her arm moving to wrap around his waist. "I thought I was going to lose you too."

He sighed, swallowing thickly. "Ziva, I... I'm so sorry. I... I tried... I tried so hard to..." But she reached up, resting a finger against his lips.

"It would not have helped, baby. But... I am just glad you did not make me a widow, too." He was able to crack a tiny smile, before his gaze shifted around.

"How... how long am I going to be in here?"

She returned to tracing patterns on his chest. "A couple days. Nurse said the wound was clean through, both shoulder and lung. They just want to monitor you-" She stopped, sitting up when the door opened and the doctor entered.

"I will be your-" The person stopped, however, upon seeing the name on the paperwork. She looked up when she stopped beside the bed. "Tim?" He looked up, confusion in his green eyes, before-

"Deena?" Ziva glanced between the pair before turning back to the doctor. She was tall, slender, with honey-colored hair and-

"It is... good to see you again, Deena."

The woman in question slowly shifted her gaze towards the agent sitting on the bed; her eyes widened in confusion for a moment before recognition hit, and she inhaled sharply. "Ziva, I would say that I am surprised, but... in truth, I am not."

"What does that mean?"

Deena bit her lip, before glancing at Tim. "May we talk? Outside?"

Silent, Ziva slipped off the bed, leaning down, promising she'd be back soon. She kissed Tim quickly before following. When they got out to the hall, Deena grabbed her arm, yanking her down the hall, past the waiting room where Sarah was trying to keep the girls occupied; only they didn't go as far as they should have.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Ziva pulled away, turning to the woman. "My husband was injured, Deena. I did not expect to see you here just as you did not expect to see me."

The good doctor snorted in derision. "Husband?" She let her gaze wander over her former best friend. "Of course, you would get exactly what you want. Marriage. And children, too?" Ziva swallowed, glancing over her shoulder, and Deena shook her head. "Do not tell me. Those three little girls- they are yours?"

"_Ken_. Tim's and mine."

"And once more, you take everything from me."

Ziva furrowed a brow, confused. "What are you talking about? What did I take from you?"

"Marriage! Children!"

"You can have that with any man!"

Deena took a deep breath. "But I_ wanted_ Tim."

"Oh my God." Suddenly, it clicked; she'd seen Deena occasionally the last few times they'd been in Israel, but the woman had always turned the other cheek, refusing to acknowledge her- especially when Tim was around. And Eli- he'd mentioned seeing Deena Bashan to Ziva before they'd sat down to dinner, but hadn't elaborated, only told her to be careful and watch her back- "You... you are jealous."

"I am not_ jealous_, Ziva." She grabbed the woman's arm, tugging her close. "But I have always hated you."

"What did I do? I did_ nothing_ to you! I was your _friend_!"

"_You took the man I love!_"

"Tim. You... you are in love with _Tim?_"

Deena scoffed, not surprised by Ziva's response. "I have _always_ been in love with Tim! And he has always been in love with you! Even when he was with me, he was in love with you!"

"Look, Deena, I... I am sorry. All right? I am sorry I hurt you, that Tim hurt you. He did not mean to. I know it does not make up for these last few years, but... but I am truly, absolutely sorry."

The doctor shook her head. "Were it anyone else, Ziva. Yes, I would forgive them. But you, _no_." She stepped closer. "Why should I forgive the woman who stole the man I love from me? That took the life I was supposed to have? How is that fair?"

"I... I do not know." Ziva's whisper was soft, and it only served to anger Deena further.

"I loved you; you were the closest thing I had to a sister, but you could not leave Tim and I be, could you? Back in high school- you could not leave us alone. And now, after all these years, you ask for forgiveness?" She quickly shut Tim's file. "I cannot and I will not forgive you! I am going to give Tim's case over to another doctor, because if I have to look at you again, I may just kill you."

And without another word, Deena stormed off.

"Ziva?" She turned, to find Sarah behind her, concern in her bloodshot eyes.


	21. Chapter 21

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

**Thanks to amiebeca for reviewing 20, and Reader aka Sun Samurai for reviewing 18, 19 and 20.**

_Mossad Headquarters,_

_Tel Aviv,_

_Israel_

_One Week Later_

With Eli's burial and the beginning and end of_ Shiva_ a week earlier, the trio found themselves swamped in a near endless sea of assets, sorting and dividing of the things within his office and accounts. Turned out, Eli had left Ziva a fairly good inheritance, as well as money that was to be put into a trust for each of the girls which could be used once they reached college. He had also left Tim and Sarah a small inheritance to be used as they saw fit-

Ziva stopped her packing, picking up the photograph Eli kept on his desk- the photograph of the five of them when they were children- it surprised her not in the slightest that she, Tim and Sarah were the only ones remaining; of course, she would lose her siblings to the violence of Israel, for why should the McGees suffer at the hands of cruel Israeli fate?

_How dare you even_ think_ such a thing. You are a McGee- have been since you were Nara's age. Your babies are McGees; how dare you even briefly entertain such thoughts._

She shook her head; no, this wasn't Tim's fault, nor was it Sarah's. It wasn't even hers. For some reason, fate had seen to intervene, to snatch Eli away before he had a chance to really get to know his grandchildren, before he had a chance to really watch them grow and develop their own distinct personalities.

As she put the photograph in a box, someone poked their head into the room. "I am sorry, I did not realize-" The woman stopped. "Ziva." She stepped into the room, causing both Tim and Sarah to stop their sorting and look up. "Well look at you. Eli's little girl, all grown up." She turned to the siblings, a flash of recognition filling her dark eyes. "Well, if it is not the McGee siblings. You have both grown up so much-"

"Orli." Tim ground out, trying to keep his composure. Sarah glanced at her brother, and then back at the older woman. So this... this was the woman who'd broken up their parents' marriage? This was Orli Elbaz? The Mossad officer that had driven their mother from their parents' marriage bed and taken her place? _This_ was the woman? "What do you want?"

The older woman smiled. "I came to see how progress was going."

Tim and Ziva shared a glance. "Fine. It's going to take some time, so you might want to tell the new Director that he'll have to wait."

She chuckled. "I know. I have no problem waiting, Timothy."

Sarah's mouth dropped as Tim and Ziva shared a glance. _"You?_ You're the new director?"

"_Ken_, I am." The woman then turned to Ziva. "Your father appointed me as his successor, since... he made it very clear you were never returning to Mossad."

"_Ima_, what do you-" But Yoni stopped, holding the small plant in her hands; the tiny cactus Ziva remembered getting her father for his birthday one year. Why she'd chosen a cactus, she didn't remember, but she'd thought it was pretty, and it had, as time had gone on, brightened up the room.

Orli's gaze flicked to Yoni, and then towards her sisters, who were sorting papers near Sarah and Tim. "So _this_ is the reason you have decided not to return to Mossad, is it, Ziva? You had _babies_." She turned to Tim. "With John's son, apparently. How domestic." Ziva hurried forward, grabbing Yoni's arm and tugging the girl until she was by her mother's side, hidden behind her legs. "Beautiful, Timothy, they truly are. John would be proud of the babies you created."

"Go to hell, Orli." Tim ground out; a moment passed, before the older woman nodded to him and Sarah, before slipping from the room. Once she was gone, Sarah rushed to shut the door as Ziva made her way to her husband. She reached up, brushing a strand of hair out of his eyes.

"You okay, baby?" He nodded, taking a deep breath. Though Ziva didn't fully believe it, she didn't press.

When they finally returned to the hotel room three hours later, Tim collapsed on the sofa, gaze moving to the window. He propped his elbow on the arm and rested his chin in his hand, sighing. Ziva gently moved away from the girls, taking a seat beside her husband. "I can't believe she's the new Director of Mossad. The woman who destroyed my parents' marriage-" He chuckled dryly, not looking at his wife. Ziva scooted closer, pulling her knees up onto the sofa. She reached out, fingers grazing his thigh, but he pulled away, getting up.

"Tim? Baby, talk to me."

"That... that _woman_ destroyed my parents' marriage- she ripped our family apart, and then she shows up, as the new director of Mossad, and goes after you. And what did I do? Nothing! I didn't_ do anything_! I stood there and let her! Just like I let her rip my parents' marriage to shreds! What kind of husband am I if I can't even protect my wife, my daughters?" She stood, going to him, but he backed up.

"You are... a beautiful man, Timothy. You are... a man who just... watched his father-in-law die and tried to save him at expense of yourself... you are a man who... who gave me three of the most beautiful daughters anyone has ever seen... you are the only man I have ever wanted. You are the man I do not deserve. You rightly belong to Deena Bashan-"

"What?" He stared at her as though she'd lost her mind. "What are you talking about? What does Deena Bashan have to do with this-"

"I-" Once she was close enough, she reached out, ghosting her fingers towards his. Her gaze darted to his, and after a minute, her pinky reached out, locking around his. They stood together in silence, watching each other, before Ziva closed the space between them, rising slightly on her toes and catching his mouth in hers. "_I am so sorry, baby. So, so sorry... I should have told you about what Deena said to me at hospital that day... when she asked to speak to me outside... I am a coward... I kept it from you, and I should not have... So sorry, baby. I am so, so very sorry..."_

He'd pulled her close, his free arm sliding around her waist and pressing her against him. Slowly, he pulled away, resting his forehead to hers. "Deena... I am not in love with Deena... I am in love with _you_... I have a _life_ with _you_, a marriage, a family... I broke off the relationship because I couldn't get _you_ out of my_ head_... she's bitter and angry and took it out on you... and you are not a coward for not standing up to her, baby. You... you were in shock, you had just lost _Abba_ and... she caught you unaware. And I... I admit, I made mistakes, and I was horrible to you when we were in high school, and when Deena and I were together... and I've regretted every moment I spent making you cry and scream and..."

She reached up, cradling his head as her fingers worked through his hair. "You have made up for it, Tim. We were teenagers... we were teenagers."

He shook his head. "No. I willingly admit my role in hurting you like I did, and I'm so sorry. I know it's not-"

"Shh." She pulled him close, kissing him softly before wrapping her arm around his shoulders. "Having you in our bed and in my arms every night is all I need, baby. _You_ are all I need."


	22. Chapter 22

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

_Be'er Sheva,_

_Israel_

_One Week Later_

Tim looked up in time to see his wife make her way towards him. They had come to Be'er Sheva to lie flowers on the graves- since the _Da_vids were originally from Be'er Sheva, dating all the way back to before Israel became a state, so too was Ziva's immediate family buried in the town where she'd been born. John had also been buried within the cemetery at Be'er Sheva, and it brought comfort- though minimal- to Tim and Sarah, knowing that their father was taken care of and loved within the small town.

She held out a hand when she reached him, waiting. He glanced at her skin, seeing the marks- the flowers and patterns of the henna that had been applied by her mother's childhood friend- Channa, one of Rivka's childhood friends who owned a small beauty parlor in Be'er Sheva. It was one Ziva remembered going to when she was little. She'd stopped by after visiting her parents and siblings at the cemetery, asking the older woman if she would be willing. RIvka had often come to Channa, asking for the henna tattoos to be applied to her skin; her mother had regarded them as beauty, something to be admired, something for her father to touch and taste and delight in as they made love. The way Rivka had talked, Ziva, at such a young age, had considered the tattoos magic, unlocking the door to true love and passion, things she didn't really understand, but wanted. So when she had asked Channa to do as she'd done to her mother, the older woman had burst into tears, willing.

Of course, the sight of the dragon, tiger and dove had caused Channa pause, and Ziva had simply whispered her sister's name; in that instant, the older woman understood. And so she'd painted Ziva's arms and legs, her stomach and chest and shoulders, using the young woman's body as a canvas for her masterpiece. The flowers, vines, and tribal-type tattoos danced over her skin, giving her an even more exotic look than she already possessed.

After a moment, Tim took her hand, allowing her to help him up, and he pulled her close, kissing her softly. "We miss you,_ Abba_. We miss all of you, every day." Tim glanced at his wife; the girls were with Sarah in the car, having already told their relatives goodbye. "We love you, all of you."

Six hours later, they were settled on the plane back to America; Sarah had curled up in her seat, sound asleep, and the girls were sitting patiently across the aisle from the adults. Tim and Ziva were talking softly together, when he felt something poke into his side. Shirah stood in the aisle, holding out the book. Tim glanced at his wife, before shaking his head. "Not tonight, Shiraleh. It'll disturb the other passengers."

"Please."

Minutes passed, before he sighed, reaching for the book. The girls quickly scrambled into their laps- Nara even settled on Sarah's waking the older woman up, not that she minded; she just wrapped her arms around the girl, kissing her head. A moment passed before Tim opened to the bookmarked page. "_'I knew this was the day when the incantation bowl would be complete, for Shirah had vowed the missing ingredient could be added only when she was in chains. I could not attend to the spell, however. I fled the dovecote with Yael and Aziza when we heard news of Shirah's captivity. Together we rushed to the plaza.'_"

"Why was she in chains?"

Tim looked up, but it wasn't any of his daughters who had spoken. Instead, it was a little girl, maybe a year older than Shirah, who sat in front of them. She was leaning over the back of the seat, listening to the story with wide, curious eyes. "Um..."

"Jacqi, that's not nice, interrupting. Besides, he was reading to his daughters, not you. I'm Natalie Williams." The girl's mother turned to Ziva and Tim. "I'm sorry about that. My daughter enjoys stories when they're read out loud."

"Tim McGee." The two quickly shook hands. "This is my wife, Ziva, and my sister, Sarah."

"Nice to meet you."

Ziva chuckled, seeing the girl's gaze shoot to the book in her husband's lap. "It is okay. Our girls enjoy them read out loud too." She stroked Yoni's dark curls.

"They all yours?" Natalie asked, and Ziva nodded, brushing a kiss to her daughter's head. "They're beautiful."

"So what happened?" Ziva turned her gaze to the Jacqi. "To the lady in the book?"

"What are you reading?" Tim quickly showed Natalie the cover, and she grinned. "Ah. Love that book." He nodded.

"So do we. As you can tell."

Nara tugged on her father's sleeve. _"Abba_, story. Please."

Chuckling softly, Tim turned his gaze back to the novel, searching for where he'd left off. "_'There was a crush of people, and the flare of overheated rage striped the air. People wanted a reason which might explain why God had turned against us, why the leaves on the trees were singed, why the olives were white and unripened, why we had only thirst until we were gasping, like fish upon the shore. They believed they now gazed upon that reason.'_"

"What are they going to do to her, Abba?" Nara asked, eyes wide in fear.

"Shh." Shirah turned to her sister, holding a finger to her lips. The adults chuckled; Natalie and her daughter listened intently as Tim read, as transfixed by the story as the girls.

"_'Watching the crowd engulf her mother, Aziza had to be restrained to guard that she wouldn't rush to Shirah's side and perhaps be held to blame as well. Yael grasped one of her arms, and I the other. She was stronger than I would have ever imagined, but Yael managed to calm her.'_" Tim glanced at his daughters, waiting for them to interrupt, but they stayed silent. "_'Have faith,' she urged, whispering to Aziza so no one could overhear and accuse them of plotting. The gold talisman glinted at Yael's throat, and her face was serene despite the chaos.'_"

Sarah shifted Nara on her lap, hugging her close. "You've read _Dovekeepers_?" Natalie nodded.

"Multiple times. I love it. It's my favorite novel."

Sarah smiled, for the first time in days. "Ours too."

"_'They say a witch's enemies must hold her in the air and separate her from earth if they wish to undercut her power, but when the minim tried this, Shirah laughed at them. They had no idea that water, not earth, was her element. 'There is no one but Adonai,' Shirah declared to those who had accused her of bringing God's wrath down on us. Her voice carried. We who had come from the dovecote faced her and were convinced she was speaking directly to us. Chldren in the crown quieted. Several women Shirah had helped in their time of need glanced away, embarrassed not to offer their assistance in return. People whispered that Menachem be Arrat, the high priest, had come to his doorway but had feared the witch's powers so that he came no farther and neither condemned her nor joined in the fray. Beside me Aziza shivered, but there was a proud cast to her eyes.'_" Tim continued to read, the story captivating all on the plane- from the other passengers to the stewardesses. Several of the passengers put their things away and turned back to the small family to listen to the reading, all caught up in the four women living within Masada.

"'... the shackles loosened, Shirah grabbed for a stick and formed a circle in the dust.'"

"Why, _Abba_?"

"Shirah, hush." Ziva whispered, reaching over and gently patted her daughter's knee.

"'_'You wanted me here,' I overheard her say to Ben Ya'ir. 'Was it not for this, cousin?' She stood within the circle, then reached inside her cloak to bring forth ashes, which she sprinkled on her head, changing as she did so in a low, even tone. The crowd strained to hear and were frightened by a language they didn't understand. Many among them believed she was bringing a curse upon us and hung back, drawing their children near to protect them from evil.'_"

Tim turned the page, glancing at the girls. They were struggling to stay awake, to listen to the story and hear what happened to Shirah. He chuckled, before continuing. "_'It began all at once, before we understood what was happening. The sky paled and turned incandescent. Rains begin in different ways, but this was a torrent that had no equal. One moment the earth was dust, and the next lakes were forming. The world became wet and luminous, brimming with sheets of water.'_"

"She made it rain?" Nara asked, confused. Tim chuckled at the six-year-old as Sarah whispered,

"Maybe. She is a witch after all. Witches can do all sorts of thing."

"_'People whispered this was the reason the Witch of Moab had been able to walk across the Salt Sea without drowning. She, who had slipped down a thousand steps into the cistern to bath in the dark, was our salvation. I blessed her for this as I raced through the blasts of wind, hurrying to our chamber for the incantation bowl she had cast. I was only a simple woman, but I recognized the missing ingredient exactly as Shirah had assured me I would.'_"

By the time they finished the section, all three girls were out like lights.


	23. Chapter 23

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

**A/N: We remember the 168 lives lost in Oklahoma City, April 19th, 1995. Twenty years later, you aren't forgotten.**

**Thanks to amiebeca for reviewing 22 and Reader aka Sun Samurai for reviewing 21 and 22.**

_Washington, D.C.,_

_Georgetown,_

_Two Days Later_

He stretched, returning his hands to the small body laying sprawled out on his chest. Nara struggled closer, sighing in her sleep, and Tim chuckled softly. He glanced at his wife; Ziva lay with Shirah tucked in her arms, and Yoni was, as usual, curled up between them, head on his shoulder, feet pushing into her older sister's back. A moment passed, before Tim shifted, reaching for his cell.

Little after five-thirty.

Well, he'd missed his morning run-

Nara yawned, lifting her head; her green eyes blinked sleepily. Tim chuckled. There was nothing cuter than a little girl waking up in the morning; especially his little girls. Her hair stuck up in various places, and there was a button imprint from where her cheek had rested the entire night. "_Boker Tov, katan_."

"... _Tov, Abba_." A moment passed before he shifted, wrapping his arms around the girl so she didn't slide off and hurt her sister as he sat up. Then, he shifted her to the bed before getting up. "_Abba_?"

"Shh." He held a finger to his lips, as he turned back to her. "What is it, Nara?" The girl held her arms up, and he chuckled softly, lifting her up. She settled on his hip, nuzzling into his shoulder. "You want to help me make breakfast for_ Ima_ and your sisters?" Silently, they left the bedroom, being careful to shut the door behind them. Once in the kitchen, Tim set Nara down, going to the counter. "So, what do you want for breakfast, _katan_?"

The girl thought a moment. "Panscapes?"

Her father chuckled. "Panscapes? Are you sure?" She nodded as he knelt down to her level. "Okay. You want to help?"

As Tim started the burner and added the butter to the frying pan, Nara dragged a chair towards the counter, climbing onto it. "What can I do, _Abba_?" He glanced at her, before handing her a big bowl with the ingredients.

"Can you mix that for me, baby girl?" The child nodded, taking the spoon and doing as her father asked. They worked in silence for several minutes, before the girl asked,

"_Abba_?"

"Hmm?"

"Where did_ Saba_ Eli go?" He stopped, turning to his youngest.

"Why do you want to know about _Saba_ Eli, Nara?" She met his gaze.

"Because _Ima_ was crying last night." Tim swallowed; they'd gotten home the night before at about midnight, and promptly put the girls to bed. Sarah had gone to stay with Penny, who was back in D.C., and after they slipped into bed, Ziva had curled up in his arms, sobbing. She'd clung to him, letting her grief take hold-

He sighed. "_Saba_ Eli..." He glanced at the girl, before turning off the stove and removing the pan. He then lifted Nara off the chair, taking a seat and settling her on his lap. The little girl looked at him, waiting. "_Saba_ Eli went to Heaven, so the could be with Auntie Tali and Uncle Ari and _Savta_ Rivka. Remember, _Ima_ and I told you about them?" A moment passed before the girl nodded.

"But... why? I thought he loved us. Did he not love us anymore?"

Tim sighed, reaching up and brushing a wayward strand of hair out of his daughter's eyes. "He loved us very much, Naraleh, so very, very much."

"Then why did he go?"

How did he explain death to a six-year-old? How did he possibly make it so death didn't sound so scary? He and Ziva had tried to explain death to the girls after John died, but that had been over five years ago, and the girls barely remembered John's death- they were young, innocent, still babies when his father died.

"_Saba_ Eli died because some... very bad person wanted him dead. And... so they killed him."

"But why? Did the bad man know that we were there? And that we loved him?"

Tim sighed, wrapping his arms around his youngest. He pressed a kiss to the girl's head, running his fingers through her messy curls. "I don't think they cared about that, baby girl. All they cared about was that _Saba_ Eli was dead; they killed him for their own selfish reasons."

"So..." Nara turned to look at her father. "Where did_ Saba_ go?"

"_Saba_ went to..." He stopped, resting his chin on his daughter's head. "_Saba_ went to Heaven."

"Where is Heaven? Is it with us?"

Her father chuckled softly. "No, Naraleh. Heaven is... well, it's whatever you want it to be. A park, or a castle or even your home... and he's there with_ Savta_ Rivka and _Savta_ Kathleen and _Saba_ John... and Uncle Ari and _Aintin_ Tali and... and _Aintin_ Kate."

"Who?"

"Do you know where _Ima_ sits?" The girl nodded. "Well, that was Kate's desk, before _Ima_ came to NCIS."

"What happened to her?"

"She died." He studied his daughter's face, considering how much of the truth to divulge to the six-year-old. "A man killed her."

"Was he bad like the person who killed _Saba_ Eli?"

Tim sighed, glancing towards the living room, where the photographs of them and Ari sat. He couldn't tell her that her uncle had been the man to kill Kate, that he'd killed the agent out of some twisted game of cat-and-mouse to cause Gibbs internal agony. So he went with the best option. "Not necessarily. There was a lot of good in this man, but it got overshadowed by the bad. In the end, that's all anyone saw, was the bad. But people forget that had lots and lots of good in him, too. You just would have had to dig to find it."

"Oh." The girl was silent for several minutes, before she asked, "Did Kate get to meet_ Ima_?"

"No, _katan_. That's why _Ima_ came to NCIS- because _Aintin_ Kate died, and_ Ima_ was supposed to help us catch her killer. But she would have loved you; she would have loved all three of you."

"Is _Saba_ Eli okay?"

Tim's gaze moved to see Ziva leaning against the doorway, arms crossed. She was tired, yet she listened with rapt attention. He smiled softly as his wife, before turning back to his daughter. "Yeah, baby girl, he's okay."


	24. Chapter 24

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

_Washington, D.C.,_

_Silver Spring,_

_Two Months Later_

Childish laughter reached his ears, and he looked up to see the three girls come bounding down the basement stairs. Nara was the first to reach the bottom, and rushed towards him, tugging on his pants leg. He glanced down at the little girl. "What are you doing?"

Gibbs set down the sandpaper and knelt down to Nara's eye level. "Building a boat."

"Oh." The six-year-old furrowed a brow, confused. "_Lama_?"

He chuckled softly; he didn't know much Hebrew, but he did understand basic questions and phrases. "Because it helps me relax and unwind from the day."

"Oh. _Lama_?"

Gibbs just shook his head, grinning. When he'd offered to let the girls stay over for the night while Tim and Ziva went out to dinner- something Sarah had insisted before her brother and sister-in-law both cracked, because it was one of those weeks where they just needed some time to _not be parents_\- Gibbs hadn't foreseen the chaos his agents' three little girls would cause.

From the moment Tim and Ziva had dropped the girls off at their dance classes- because the three had started dance a couple years ago- and told Gibbs he was to pick them up, the older man had been scrambling to keep the girls under control. After picking them up from dance, he'd brought them back to his place and cooked dinner- macaroni and cheese and slices of ham- which Shirah had immediately informed him that they weren't allowed to have pork of any kind. Though Ziva didn't _strictly_ keep kosher- it was hard, especially when their kitchen wasn't equipped for it, and so often times it was a half-hearted attempt- she did manage to not keep pork in the house. Chicken, duck, and turkey were allowed, as was beef, and so Gibbs had scrambled to find something that wasn't pork related to go with the macaroni. They ended up having hamburgers with the noodles, and then chocolate pudding, which Gibbs allowed Shirah to help him make. Since the girls had been born, Gibbs found that he was better prepared to have his cupboards and fridge stocked, for nights such as this.

They'd then played outside for a while, with Gibbs sitting on the back porch, watching as the girls chased each other through the backyard, before coming inside. He made three cups of hot chocolate, had the girls change into their pajamas, and then put_ Anastasia_ in the VHS player. With the girls soon asleep thanks to the movie, Gibbs had slipped downstairs to work on his boat.

And apparently the girls had just woken up. He picked Nara up, setting her on the bench and then nodding for Yoni to join her. He then motioned for Shirah to follow, and they went back upstairs, returning minutes later with four cups of hot chocolate. "_Ima_ and _Abba_ do not let us have-"

But Gibbs held a finger to his lips. "What_ Ima_ and _Abba_ don't know, won't kill them, kiddo." He replied, cutting Shirah off.

The girls sat in silence, watching as Gibbs returned to working on his boat. A moment passed before Shirah slipped off the bench, setting her cup down. "Can I help?"

The team leader stopped working and turned to the girl. He used to let Kelly help build the boats when she had been alive, and the girls seemed genuinely interested in what he was doing-

Without a word, he got up, grabbing a couple of the tools he used to sand the wood, and after showing them what to do, he returned to his work. It was quiet for several minutes, with only the sounds of them working on the wood, before Shirah asked,

"Gibbs, who is Kelly?"

The older man stopped, turning to the girl. "How do you know about Kelly?"

Shirah swallowed, shrinking back. "I... I was upstairs and I... there was a door that was closed... I... it is a little girl's room..." Slowly, the child removed something from beneath her stuffed elephant. She unfolded it, holding it out to Gibbs, who took it. His heart constricted, seeing the stick-figure drawings of him, his wife and daughter, the words, 'I Love You, Daddy, Love, Kelly' in bright red crayon. He glanced at Shirah, who held Brogan to her chest. "_Slicha_, Gibbs. I..._ Ima_ and_ Abba_ will be mad at me..._ Abba_ told me it is bad to pry..."

But he just got up, taking a seat on the bench and motioning the girls to join him. As he pulled Nara onto his lap, he glanced at the drawing before turning back to the girls. It had been innocent, childhood curiosity that had prompted Shirah to peek into Kelly's old room; she'd seen a closed door and opened it, as children do, she'd meant no harm. And as for taking anything, all she'd taken was the drawing, wanting to ask him about the girl whose name was written on the paper and whose bedroom door was closed.

"It's okay, kiddo." He sighed. "Kelly was my daughter."

"You have a daughter?" Yoni asked, eyes wide. "Where is she? Can we play with her?"

He chuckled softly at the delight in the little girl's eyes, at the prospect of a new playmate. "She's not here."

"Oh. Where is she?"

"She's... in the cemetery, with her mother."

"She died?" Gibbs turned to Shirah, who had a look in her eyes that Gibbs had often seen in her parents', when they got caught up in the past- Ari's death, Eli's murder-

"Yeah, she did."

"How?"

The team leader swallowed; did he explain to the girls the circumstances of his wife and daughter's death? He wasn't even sure Tim and Ziva had explained death to the girls, so what right did he have to tell them of the brutal way his family had died?

"They were shot."

"Like_ Saba_ Eli." Shirah whispered. Clearly, the little girl had been affected by Eli's death, just as her parents had. As for Gibbs, neither Tim nor Ziva had gone into detail about what happened on_ Shabbat_, only saying that Roy and Eli had died, and that Tim and Sarah had both been hurt, but that they would be fine- as fine as they could be.

"Do you miss them, Gibbs?" Yoni asked, and he turned to the girl, thinking.

Slowly, he nodded, pressing a kiss to each dark head. "I do. Very, very much."


	25. Chapter 25

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

_Washington, D.C.,_

_Georgetown,_

_2021_

Ziva snuggled further into Tim's arms, ignoring whoever was at the side of the bed, shaking her. After having gotten home from a trying case, they'd made sure the girls had done their homework, had dinner, and then gone to bed. Shirah had of course asked to be excused early, saying she wasn't feeling well.

"_Ima_."

Ziva shifted closer to Tim; the girls would be in soon enough to curl up with them, and she wanted as much time as possible in her husband's arms before then. The shaking continued.

"_Ima_."

Groaning, the Israeli finally shifted onto her other side, dark eyes blinking open after several minutes. Shirah stood by the side of the bed, tears running down her cheeks. That immediately set alarm bells off in her head; Shirah never cried about anything if she could help it. At twelve, the girl had learned from watching her how to be stoic and quiet, and how to keep her emotions tapered down- something Ziva was determined to break her oldest of. Of course, Yoni and Nara had no trouble expressing their feelings- well, _Yoni_ didn't, but that was the water in Ziva's middle daughter; so much like her father, in temperament and personality, that there were days Ziva feared the ten-year-old would drown for the water in her. And Nara...

Of all three of the sisters, Nara was the one who couldn't seem to decide which element she truly belonged to. Though she seemed to possess more air than either of her sisters' elements, a trait that kept the eight-year-old equally getting into trouble and staying out of it.

"Sh... Shirah? What... what are you doing up?" Ziva quickly grabbed her cellphone, checking the time. "It is midnight, you should be in bed."

But the child just sniffled. "_Slicha, Ima_. I..." She burst into silent tears that sent her mother throwing back the covers as she sat up.

"Shh, hush, Shiraleh. There is no need to cry. Come here." The girl went to her, taking her hands. "Now what is wrong?"

A moment passed before the girl whispered softly in her mother's ear. Ziva furrowed a brow before her eyes widened in realization. "Oh, sweetheart, you have just gotten your_ niddah_."

Shirah stared at her, the word unfamiliar to her. She'd sat through her health class in school, like all the seventh graders had to. She'd blushed when the teachers talked about the differences between boys and girls, and had sunk into her seat when the subject of sex was brought up; for she understood perfectly well what sex was- _Ima_ and _Abba_ had it all the time; they would cry out for each other, or start with touches and kisses or playful smiles, whispered words or tugging at clothing. And while _Ima_ and _Abba_ had talked to her about it, she never actually thought it would apply to her. "_Ma_?"

Ziva sighed, getting up and taking Shirah's arm, tugging her into the bathroom. With the door soon locked behind the two, Ziva knelt to meet her daughter's gaze. "You have started your period,_ktana_, that is all. You have just," She shrugged. "Started your period."

"I have?"

Ziva nodded. "In Hebrew, it is called a _niddah_\- well, the technical meaning of _niddah_ means a woman who is unclean because she has not been able to complete an immersion in a _mikveh_, but that is neither here nor there. The point, Shiraleh," Ziva finished, taking her daughter's shoulders gently. "is that you got your period. You have started your menstrual cycle, that is all. Nothing to be scared of. We can take care of it. It just means you are growing up."

The twelve-year-old sniffled. "Oh."

"Now, how about you get out of your pajamas and I will run a quick shower, okay? Maybe that will calm you down."

The girl nodded as she slowly began removing her pajamas, but she stopped. "Does _Abba_ know?"

"About what?" Ziva asked, starting the shower.

"About..." She swallowed, glancing at her feet.

"About_ niddah_?" Shirah nodded. "Of course he does. _Abba_ and I grew up together in Israel. We were best friends." Ziva stopped, chuckling softly. "When I started mine," She quickly wet her lips, her teeth coming out to latch onto her lower lip. "I was twelve- your age- and I was spending the afternoon at_ Savta_ Kathleen and _Saba_ John's, and_ Abba_ and I were working on homework at the kitchen table. And when I got up to get something to drink, Si-si asked where the blood had come from. I was embarrassed I did not talk to _Abba_ for days afterward."

"He was not scared?"

Ziva shook her head, wrinkling her nose. "No. _Abba_ understood; _Abba_ is a very understanding man. He knows all about _niddah,_ and he knows when I am on mine; he knows better than to be around me when I am on mine." She helped Shirah into the shower, and then slid the door shut, leaning against the wall. "_Niddah_ is what gave me you and your sisters."

"But... you said _Abba_-"

Ziva chuckled softly. "_Abba_ did give me you, but _niddah_ made it possible for me to have you and your sisters. It makes it possible for a woman to have a baby. That does not mean you now get to sleep with a boy whenever you want, Shiraleh, it just makes it possible to have children. Are we clear? You know _Abba_ and I will not allow you to date until-"

"I know, _Ima_. Fourteen." The girl whispered, shutting off the water and opening the shower door. Ziva grabbed a towel, wrapping it around her daughter and quickly helping her dry off. The child made a face. "I do not like boys anyway. They are gross." Her mother chuckled, grabbing another towel and proceeding to dry her daughter's hair.

"You will not be saying that for much longer, Shiraleh." She replied, giggling as she lifted the towel, revealing her daughter's messy damp curls. "A lot will change very soon. A lot is changing as we speak." She whispered, reaching up and brushing a strand off her daughter's cheek. "I will go get some clean clothes and you can change in here. There are menstrual pads in the bottom shelf of the cupboard. It will help tonight, and we will discuss what to do tomorrow morning. However, since it is Saturday, and _Abba_ and I are not on rotation, I suggest we all sleep in. I will be right back."

By the time they got the bed stripped and remade with fresh sheets, Shirah had calmed down significantly. As Ziva slipped back into bed an hour later, sliding herself into Tim's arms, he pressed a kiss to her shoulder. "Ev'rything all right, baby?"

Ziva nodded, glancing back at her husband as he nuzzled against her neck. "Fine." She pulled Tim's arms tighter around her waist, settling down among the pillows before shifting quickly onto her side and kissing him chastely on the lips before settling back down. "Shiraleh just started her period."

"Tha's... nice..." Tim's green eyes snapped open and he pushed himself up. "_What_?"


	26. Chapter 26

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

**Thanks to Rosiesmomma4 for reviewing 25, Reader aka Sun Samurai for reviewing 23, 24 and 25.**

They didn't get to sleep in.

Well,_ Ziva_ didn't get to sleep in much.

She awoke the find the girls curled into bed with them; Shirah was tucked in her arms, and after a moment, the girl whimpered. Her mother, recognizing what the girl was going through, had slowly extracted herself from the circus that was their bed and led Shirah back to her room. She pulled out one of the heated blankets they used in winter from the linen closet, and draped it over the girl's bed, turning it on. Once settled, she pressed a kiss to her oldest daughter's head, moving to the door. "_Ima_? _Bevakasha_?"

She'd asked the same of Rivka the first day after she'd started hers also. Sighing softly, Ziva slipped beneath the covers, wrapping her arms around her oldest daughter's waist and pulling her close. She understood what her daughter was going through, that sometimes, a girl just needed her mother- a fact Ziva didn't fully understand until it was too late, after she'd gotten pregnant with Shirah and gone into early labor at thirty-six weeks; by then, Rivka had been dead for close to fourteen years, having never gotten to hear the news of her daughter's marriage or meet her granddaughter. When Ziva had needed her mother most- for perhaps the most important milestone in her life- Rivka had been cold in her grave, the tragic end to a relationship that had been strained long before a sniper's bullet claimed her youngest daughter, before murder took her husband on _Shabbat_ night, and before her only surviving child considered marriage and children to be nothing more than a distant dream, never to be realized.

Ziva brushed a strand of hair off her daughter's cheek. She pressed a kiss to the girl's temple, sighing.

"_Ima_?"

"Hmm?"

Shirah swallowed. "What... what happens?" She shifted onto her other side, facing her mother.

"To what,_ ahuva_?" The girl quickly glanced at her, and Ziva sighed, realizing. "Oh. That." She licked her lips, reaching up and running her fingers through her daughter's hair. "I thought you learned about this in health class?"

The girl ducked her head. "It is embarrassing. There are boys in class. They-"

"Make jokes." Shirah nodded. Ziva sighed softly; she remembered having to sit through the classes on health when she was Shirah's age. Embarrassing enough, but made even ten times more by the fact that the boys often were the ones to ask questions- and Tim had been no exception. She'd punched him after one particularly embarrassing class, when the teacher had tried to explain what happened during childbirth; if only either had known then that that very embarrassing subject would one day have Ziva in its very grip, three times over...

"So... what... happens?"

Shirah waited as Ziva tried to get her thoughts into order. How had _Ima_ explained it to her? She'd already told the girls about 'snakes and caves'- Rivka's clever wording for sex- but in regards to this-

"Having a _niddah_ is different than having a baby, _ktana_. In a _niddah_, the eggs are not fertilized, meaning-"

"They do not become babies?"

"Right." She pulled her daughter closer. "And the bleeding you are going through, is just your body getting rid of the egg. There is no baby, so there is no reason for the egg to stay in your body any longer."

"But what if there is a baby?"

"Do you remember when I had Naraleh?" Shirah nodded. "That was-" She sighed, but didn't get to explain, at the knocking on the front door. She sat up, telling the girl that she'd be back, only to stop when she heard Tim open the door. The conversation was muffled, but soon the door shut and footsteps could be heard. A moment passed, before Ziva slowly climbed out of the bed, going to the door; she pushed it open, poking her head out.

"... look, Tony, I can't tell you what to do in regards to Zoe..."

"It is just Uncle Tony, _ktana_."

An hour later, Ziva slipped out of the bed; Shirah was sound asleep, the heated blanket wrapped around her. She brushed a soft kiss to the girl's head and then slipped out of the room, heading into the kitchen. Both Yoni and Nara were sitting at the table with their father, listening to their father's conversation with Tony. "What is going on?" Ziva rubbed her husband's back, accepting the cup Tony held out to her as she pulled up a chair, settling between the two men.

"Tony wanted some advice in regards to his relationship with Zoe. Why he decided to come here when he could have gone to Gibbs-"

"Well, let's face it Tim, Gibbs doesn't exactly have the best track record when it comes to relationships." Tony cut in. The younger agent chuckled softly.

"Yeah, you're right, Gibbs does tend to do poorly with relationships." He glanced at Ziva, reaching out and taking her hand. "How's Shiraleh doing?"

"Something's wrong with Shirah?" Tony asked, concern soon filling his eyes.

"She started her _niddah_." Ziva replied, glancing at Tony. The senior agent furrowed a brow, turning to Tim.

"Her period." Tim clarified, and Tony winced.

"Oh, God." He looked up as Shirah came shuffling into the kitchen, the blanket wrapped around her, Brogan in her arms. "Hope you're ready for the boys, McDaddy."

Tim glared at him, turning as the girl shuffled towards him, settling in his lap. Ziva shook her head.

"No boys, Tony. The girls are not allowed to date until they are fourteen."

"Whose rule is that?"

Tim nodded towards his wife. "Hers. Not that I'm opposed to such a thing."

Tony chuckled softly, "I'm not opposed to it either."


	27. Chapter 27

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

**A/N: We remember the 13 killed at Columbine, April 20, 1999.**

**Thanks to amiebeca for reviewing 24 and 26 and Reader aka Sun Samurai for reviewing 26.**

_Washington, D.C.,_

_Georgetown Day School,_

_Georgetown, _

_Two Days Later_

"Have fun, girls."

Yoni pressed a kiss to her mother's cheek before rushing to catch up with her sisters. Ziva stood back, folding her arms over her chest as she watched the girls disappear into the school with their friends.

"Hey."

She turned, to see Natalie Williams sidle up to her. Turned out, Natalie and her husband lived on the floor above the McGees, and their daughter Jacqi attended the same school as the girls. Natalie and her family had been in Tel Aviv that week to attend her sister's wedding; an Israeli-American by birth, Natalie had grown up splitting her time between Israel and America- over the last couple years, the two couples had gotten to be good friends, relying on each other when they could, or when Tim and Ziva didn't want to have to ask the team for help. "Hey, Nat."

"So, you wanna go get a cup of coffee? Or... do you have to be at work today?" Ziva shook her head; Gibbs had given the team the day off- or, actually, Shepard had- since the entire building was being cleaned out and sterilized due to an infestation of gnats; no one was really sure how the gnats had gotten into the building, but either way, the building had to be fumigated, giving the whole building time off.

"Nope, no work."

An hour later, Ziva and Natalie sat at the dining room table in the McGee's apartment, chatting over cups of hot coffee and homemade Irish coffee cake Tim had made the night before. Though Natalie was three years older than Ziva and Tim, she had quite a lot in common with Ziva. Though she hadn't gotten married as a child, she'd married young- she and her husband Mike had eloped at eighteen, while they were still in high school, to the displeasure of their parents. Jacqi had been born in oh-seven, making the girl two years older than Shirah.

"So how long have you been in D.C.?"

Ziva took a sip of her coffee. "Fourteen years. I... started as a liaison officer at NCIS and then got my American citizenship and became an agent."

"Congratulations." Natalie sipped her coffee, thinking. "How long have you and Tim been married?"

Ziva quickly did the math in her head. "Thirty-six years."

Natalie's eyes widened. "Thirty- seriously?"

Ziva nodded. "Yes." And so she proceeded to tell Natalie about the childhood game of 'House' that had resulted in a marriage, and five year separation she and Tim had endured before finally reuniting... and instead of looking at her like she was insane- like most people did when they heard the story- Natalie just smiled softly. They soon lapsed into silence, enjoying the quiet that was so scarce since they'd both become mothers.

The front door soon opened though, breaking through the contented silence. Ziva peeked around Natalie, to see Tim enter, Sarah in tow. The siblings were chatting about something that had obviously happened earlier in the day, and neither noticed the two women as they made their way into the kitchen. Ziva and Natalie shared an amused glance. 'His sister?'

Ziva nodded at the mouthed question.

"... but that's not fair, Timmy-"

"Hey, nobody said life was fair-"

"What is not fair?" The siblings turned to find the two women watching them curiously.

"Hey, baby." Tim immediately made his way towards her, kissing her chastely. "Sorry, did we interrupt?" Natalie waved it away as he returned to the kitchen, pouring a cup of coffee.

"Where were you two? Jack Rabbit Slim's?"

Sarah furrowed a brow at her sister-in-law. "You... you can't say 'porcupine' and don't understand the phrase 'fish in a barrel,' yet you can remember the diner from _Pulp Fiction_?"

Ziva shrugged. "Tim and I watched it the night the girls stayed with Gibbs. We also watched _Fast Times at Ridgemont High_. Sean Penn is a genius." Sarah rolled her eyes, pouring a cup of coffee and taking a seat at the table, grinning at Natalie. "So, what is not fair, Sarah?"

The younger woman crossed her arms over her chest. "Nothin-"

"We stopped by Callie's office today." Tim cut in, referring to his publisher- well, the publishing office that housed both his publisher and agent and Sarah's- only to find that Tim's current novel had made the bestseller list for the eighth time in a row- not because of people being paid to place it there, but because it was actually doing _well_. Sarah's hadn't even cracked the top fifteen.

"Just because my brother has fourteen novels under his belt, _twelve_ of them bestsellers-"

"You're just a sore loser, Sarah. Always have been." Tim replied, taking a seat beside his wife.

Ziva chuckled softly, reaching over and patting his knee. "There is no need to bloat, baby. _Sarit_ writes just as well as you."

The siblings shared a glance, before turning back to Ziva. "Gloat."

She shooed it away with a wave of her hand, clucking her tongue gently as Natalie laughed. "Still having issues with English, Ziva? How long did you say you've been here? Fourteen years?" The former Mossad officer nodded. "Still have not mastered English?"

"Ah... English is a... very confusing... language." Tim and Sarah caught each others' eye before bursting into laughter.

"Ziva, baby, if you think English is confusing, try learning _Hebrew _as a second language." She swatted her husband gently, before taking his hand and lacing their fingers. The four adults settled into silence, before Ziva turned to Natalie and Sarah.

"Would either of you find it inconvenient if you came to the mall with Shiraleh and I tomorrow?"

"Why do you want us to go with you to the mall, Ziva? Or... more importantly, why does Shirah need to go?" Sarah asked, sipping her coffee.

Ziva took a deep breath, glancing at her husband. "Because... because Shiraleh asked me if she could get her first bra- do not _look_ at me like _that_, Timothy."

All Natalie and Sarah did was laugh.


	28. Chapter 28

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

**Thanks to Reader aka Sun Samurai and amiebeca for reviewing 27.**

_Washington, D.C.,_

_Georgetown, _

_Two Days Later_

It had taken longer than one day to fumigate NCIS HQ- the source of the gnats had been discovered; the apples and oranges the girls often gave Tony as thank yous for entertaining them while their parents had time to themselves were found decomposing in the bottom drawer of his desk- so the team found themselves enjoying another day off on paid leave; well, what _actually_ ended up being a whole two weeks.

"Look, Timmy, it just means that Shirah's growing up. I don't see why you're so upset about this. Do you think_ Da_ freaked when I asked for my first bra?"

Tim glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. He snorted, and Sarah shoved her brother playfully before getting up and going to the fridge. She pulled out two beers, quickly popping off the caps before handing one to her brother. Tim and Ziva rarely kept alcohol in the house- usually just a bottle of wine for cooking- but when they did, it was usually because company was over- either Sarah, Tony or someone else on the team.

"Seriously?"

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Okay, he_ did_. But-"

"It's the right of all fathers-"

Sarah waved it away. "Yeah, yeah, we know. You have the right to 'freak out' because your babies are growing up." She shifted on the sofa, tucking one leg under herself to face her brother. "Did you freak out when she was born? Don't answer that- in that instance, you had every right._ I_ even freaked out. But, my _point_ is, you can't stop Shirah from growing up, no matter how much you_ think_ you can."

"She's my _baby girl_, Sarah-"

"And _my_ niece, and I'm not upset that Shirah's growing up. Is Ziva upset? I don't think so." She chuckled softly as Tim murmured something that sounded suspiciously like 'Ziva, knives and castrate' and took a sip of his beer. "Oh for God's sake, it's a_ bra_, Timmy! It's not like she asked for_ birth control pills_! You _like_ bras, remember? You _love_ what Ziva wears and how she wears them, especially if they're push-up-"

"But this is my_ daughter_, Sarah!"

She raised an eyebrow as she took a sip of her beer. "Your point?"

He glared at her. "She's my baby girl. A bra leads to makeup and revealing clothes and flirting and boys and dates and relationships and engagements and marriage and-"

"'Babies of her own,' I know." Sarah murmured under her breath. She shook her head, raising the bottle to her lips again. "Timmy, she's gonna grow up. And so is Yoni and so is Nara."

"But they have a few more years-"

"Mmm... technically, Yoni has two and Nara has four, but whatever helps you sleep at night." She jumped as he swatted her lightly on the arm, before setting her beer on the table and scooting closer. She shifted, until she was lying on her back on the sofa, her head in her brother's lap, something she used to do when she wanted Tim and only Tim to hear whatever she wanted to talk about. Slowly, she reached up, taking his hand. "I've been thinking, Timmy..."

"Oh God, we know how dangerous that can be." She swatted him gently on the chest, grinning. He set his bottle on the table, before settling back against the sofa and lacing their fingers. Silent, Sarah began playing with his fingers, twisting his wedding ring. "So, what have you been thinking about?" Silence. "Sarah?"

She looked up at him, sighing. "Since I lost Roy-"

"Yeah?"

"I want to have a baby." Her brother shot up so fast her head knocked with his knee. "Ow, what was that for?"

"Let me get this straight, Sarah. You- you- want to have a baby?"

She turned to him, nodding. "Yes, Timmy. Why are you so surprised?"

"I just... you've never talked about kids before- other than my girls. You've never been interested in having children, in getting married-"

"Well _maybe I've_ _changed, Timmy_! Maybe losing Roy made me realize that I don't want to spend the rest of my life alone! That I... want someone to_ love_ me!"

Her brother shook his head as she stood. "So you want to have a baby purely to make yourself happy, is that it, Sarah?"

"N-" She stopped, his words ringing true.

"Have you even stopped to _consider_ that that little baby you bring into the world is going to depend on you for the next _eighteen years_; there isn't going to be any dumping it when things get bad, or forgetting about it when times get tough. When you have a child, you sign on for parenthood for the rest of your _life_, Sarah, do you_ understand_ that?"

"What is going on?" The siblings turned, to see Ziva and the girls in the doorway, a few bags in their hands. Sarah turned back to her brother.

"I just... I don't want to be alone anymore, Timmy. Don't you understand_ that_?" Then, without a word, she grabbed her jacket and fled, moving past the girls, shrugging off Ziva when her sister-in-law reached out to take her hand.

"Tim, what is going on?" He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He muttered something Ziva didn't catch as he made his way towards her, stealing a quick kiss before going back to the coffee table and grabbing the two beer bottles. He gave some excuse that caused Ziva to raise an eyebrow. "Maybe you should go after her. Tim, if you and _Sarit_ parted on bad terms-"

He followed his wife into the kitchen as she set her bags on the dining room table. "Trust me, baby, I'm the _last_ person Sarah wants to talk to right now."

"Well, what _exactly_ did you say before we walked in?" Tim kept silent as he poured the remnants of the beer in each down the sink and then stuck the empty bottles in the recycling. Neither noticed as Yoni slipped out of the front door.


	29. Chapter 29

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

**To Well- okay, _stop_. I'm tired of your attempts to scare me off this site- and as for the 'personal BS', why don't you _butt out_. I have found something I enjoy. And if this is a 'ridiculous front' as you say, 'a writer's cry for attention' as you so blatantly call it, then I guess _every writer_ on this site is _crying_ for _attention_. _Don't fucking read it if you don't want to_; there are plenty of _other_ stories on this site that you can read. _Leave me alone_,_ please_. **

"Si-si." Sarah pulled out her car keys, quickly unlocking the door of her car. "_Si-si, wait_!"

She reached out to pull the door closed, only to jump as Yoni grabbed the handle of the door. "Yoni, what are you-"

"Did you mean it?"

"Mean what?"

"That you want to have a baby?"

"I... I guess, why?"

The girl seemed to think for a moment, before, "You can adopt me."

That floored her aunt, who quickly turned the car off and removed the keys from the ignition before getting out. She tugged the ten-year-old back onto the sidewalk and knelt down to meet her gaze. "Yonah, where is this coming from?"

The girl met her gaze. "Do you want to adopt me or not?"

"Yoni... y... you're my niece. Sweetheart, I love you, but I'm not going to adopt you."

"Why not? You will not have to take care of me; I am a big girl, I can take care of myself-"

"Because you're my _niece_. You're my brother's baby girl-"

"_Abba_ never notices if I am around or not."

"Oh, sweetheart, that's not true._ Abba_ loves you."

"But he and _Ima_ and always focused on Shirah, because she is the oldest and Nara is the youngest-"

"That doesn't mean they don't love you, Yoni." She pulled the girl close. "I _loved_ having a big brother when I was your age. Your _Abba_ was my best friend when we were growing up, we did everything together. I wished, when I was younger, that I had a little sister." She chuckled. "I have an older sister now, in your _Ima_." A moment passed, before she shrugged. "I guess that's all right. An older sister is better than no sister at all. And, I have three beautiful nieces, all whom I absolutely adore... and yes, I do want my own baby. I want what your _Ima_ has-"

They both looked up as Ziva and Tim came rushing down the sidewalk. "Oh, Yoni, thank God!" Ziva scooped the little girl up, holding her close. "What were you thinking? Sneaking out like that? You know better, Yonah!"

"I wanted to talk to Si-si." The girl replied, meeting her mother's gaze. "I want her to adopt me."

"Why would you want her to adopt you?" Ziva and Tim shared a glance before turning to Sarah, who crossed her arms over her chest.

"Because neither you or_ Abba_ want me, and Si-si wants a baby, so-"

"Yes, but I want a baby of my _own_, Yoni. That doesn't mean that I don't love you. And that doesn't mean that _Ima_ and _Abba_ don't love you any less, okay?"

After bidding Sarah goodbye half an hour later, Tim shut the door behind his wife and daughter and leaned against it. Shirah and Nara poked their heads out of the kitchen. One glance at their mother's face, however, and the two dashed off to their rooms, shutting the doors softly behind them. They understood that this was a private matter between their sister and their parents, and so left well enough alone.

Ziva took a seat on the sofa beside her middle daughter, studying the child. "Talk to us, Yonah. What were you thinking, asking Sarah to adopt you?"

The girl swallowed. "Si-si wants a baby. I can take care of myself, so..." She shrugged, looking down at her jeans.

"Yoni, just because Si-si wants a baby, doesn't mean we want you to live with her." Tim took a seat on the other side of her, reaching up to brush a strand of hair out of her eyes. "We love you, you're our daughter."

"You do not even remember I am here." Tim glanced at his wife, before pulling Yoni onto his lap.

"How can you think that, Yonaleh?Of course we remember that you're here. You're just always so quiet-"

"You get that from _Abba_. Always has his head buried in a book." Ziva cut in, glancing at her husband. "It is the water in him; it relaxes him to the point that he seems to fade away before your eyes. But he is there, you can sense him, sense the water in him, even though you may not realize he is there. Just like we can with you." Ziva sighed, trailing her fingers through the girl's hair. "You have so much water inside you, Yonaleh, that sometimes I fear you may drown. But that does not mean that we forget you."

"But-"

Ziva scooted closer. "Yoni,_ ahuva_, you are our baby girl. That means you are just as important as your sisters-"

"But Nara is the baby, and Shi is the oldest and_ I_ am the middle-"

"_I_ was the middle, too." Ziva replied, causing Yoni to turn to her.

"You were, _Ima_?"

Her mother nodded. "Your Uncle Ari was ten years older than me, and_ Aintin_ Tali was two years younger. I never felt as though I belonged in my family. I knew that my_ Ima_ and _Abba_ did, but that did not change the fact that I was the one feeling such things. I always thought that I was the one meant to take the blame for anything Ari and Tali did wrong, because Tali was the baby and Ari was the oldest. I was the middle child, but I felt as though I were invisible." She pulled her daughter close, pressing a kiss to her head. "I know what that is like, and I am so sorry if we made you feel that way, Yonah. Neither _Abba_ nor I meant to."


	30. Chapter 30

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

_Washington, D.C.,_

_The Navy Yard,_

_2023_

"_Please_, Uncle Tony? We can watch _African Queen_ again."

The senior agent glanced at the girl standing beside him in the elevator. The fourteen-year-old was unwrapping one of the breakfast burritos he'd bought on the way to the Navy Yard, and after a moment he glanced at the two younger girls. Both her sisters were silent- the twelve-year-old was sipping the mocha he'd gotten her, lost in thought; seeing as she was his favorite niece, he often went over the line for her, but that didn't mean he didn't neglect his two other nieces- and the ten-year-old had her headphones in. She had her hands wrapped around her hot chocolate and was bobbing her head to whatever was playing in her headphones. Sounded faintly like Shakira, from what Tony could decipher.

The man chuckled softly, remembering the desperate phone call he'd gotten from Ziva on Friday night. The Israeli had begged him to take the girls off their hands- all they wanted was a night to themselves without the girls- no arguments, no asking for dessert, no waking up to their usual five-way cuddle session. "Your parents want you all back."

"They did not want us back last night." The teenager muttered.

"Or the nights before; all they cared about was sucking face without us interrupting." The twelve-year-old added making a face before she took a sip of her coffee.

"We are fourteen, twelve and ten; they would let us immigrate to _Jupiter_ if we could get a ride."

"Trust me, girls. They want you back." He soon found himself on the receiving end of a very familiar glare. It took a moment as the doors of the elevator opened for him to recover. "God, you look just like your mother when you do that." The three rushed to catch up to him as he entered the bullpen-

"Qui? I don't think so."

"'Chi', as in the life energy that flows through all things."

"Should have seen that one coming, McGee-" Tim rolled his eyes as their partner slipped behind his desk; Ziva quickly put the pieces and board back in her desk. "And your girls are back, safe and sound, if not a little caffeinated-"

Tim raised an eyebrow, getting up and going to his oldest. He took the girl's dance bag, slinging it over his shoulder. In the two years that had passed, Shirah had turned fourteen, causing a major headache for both Tim and Ziva. On top of that, Yoni had turned twelve and Nara ten; with two sets of raging teenage hormones, the Georgetown apartment often turned into a war zone. Thankfully, Nara was still two years away from any sort of period drama.

"You _caffeinated_ our _daughters_?" Ziva demanded, as Nara dropped her backpack behind her desk and then perched on her mother's lap. Ziva studied her youngest, before removing the girl's headphones.

"Oh. Hi,_ Ima_." All her mother did was raise an eyebrow, even as Nara pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"So, how did you handle the three terrors?" Tim asked, dropping Shirah's bag behind his desk. The teenager glared at her father, before pressing a kiss to his cheek before taking a seat at her father's desk. "They give you any trouble over the weekend?"

"Yes, thank you again, Tony. We just... just needed the time to ourselves." The older man waved his friends' concerns away; he was happy to take the girls for however long their parents wanted- in fact, between him, Gibbs, Abby, Palmer and Breena, Sarah and Ducky, the girls had a small plethora of places to stay whenever their parents wanted time or the house to themselves.

"Not a problem. We watched a few movies, played a few board games, cooked-"

"Please tell me it was not hot dogs, Tony, you know we do not keep-"

"_Relax_, Ziva. It wasn't hot dogs or anything pork related. I made my special five-noodle linguini." He replied, quite proud of his cooking skills. Nara wrinkled her nose, turning to her mother.

"We had pasta every night since Thursday. I never want to have pasta again." Ziva chuckled softly, ruffling her youngest daughter's hair.

"Well, thank you for watching the girls, Tony." Tim said, leaning against his desk.

"There was one thing we did not have, _Abba_." He turned to his oldest, who took a bite of her burrito.

"And what was that, Shiraleh?"

The teenager swallowed before, "We did not read the book before bed. Uncle Tony does not read as good as you and _Ima_ do. We did not want him to ruin it. Besides, we did not have it with us and he does not have a copy."

Their parents shared a glance, before chuckling.

An hour later, the girls had settled at the partitioned desk by their father's; having finished their homework, they were reading or talking softly together or listening to music to pass the time. Since it was Sunday, the bullpen was quiet; the MCRT was the only team called in that weekend, giving the agents free reign of the building- not that Gibbs allowed it. They were mainly working cold cases to catch up on the overwhelming work load left behind by Agent Cassidy and her team after their murders by a terrorist the week before in downtown Georgetown.

The team had worked late that night, neither Tim nor Ziva had gotten home until two, waking the girls up as they slipped into the apartment and promptly snuck off to bed. The girls had crawled into their parents' bed two hours later, having heard Ziva's cries; for the crime had brought back painful memories of the bombing that stole Tali from them.

Now though, Tony looked up as Yoni rushed back into the bullpen from the bathroom. "Whoa, where's the fire, Yon-Yon?" He grabbed her wrist, stopping her. She turned back to him, disgusted. "Everything okay?" The girl glanced quickly at her sisters, who peeked around the partition wall, and then to Gibbs, who raised his eyebrows, intrigued.

"_Ima_ and_ Abba_ are in the bathroom together."

Tony raised an eyebrow, as Gibbs slipped out from behind his desk, so silent, no one heard him. Ten minutes later, Tim and Ziva shot back to their desks so fast trails of smoke could be seen rising to the ceiling, embarrassed. Yoni turned back to Tony.

"Can we apply for asylum?"


	31. Chapter 31

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

**Thanks to Reader aka Sun Samurai for reviewing 28, 29 and 30, amiebeca for reviewing 29 and 30 and ej-83 for reviewing 30.**

_Washington, D.C.,_

_Georgetown_

Ziva looked up from her book; Gibbs had sent everyone home two hours earlier- they'd done everything they could in regards to the cold cases, and made minimal headway in taking over Cassidy's old cases. "_Ima_?" The Israeli turned as Shirah climbed onto the sofa beside her, holding out a brush. After a quiet dinner, the girls had changed into their pajamas, and come back out into the living room. Her mother sighed.

"Shiraleh, you are old enough to braid your own hair-"

"Please,_ Ima_?" A moment passed, before her mother set aside her book and took the brush. Shirah shifted, and after a moment, Ziva began quickly brushing her daughter's hair and plaiting it into two braids down either side of her head. Once she finished, Ziva tied off the braid and handed the girl back the brush. In exchange, Shirah held out the book, and her mother sighed, checking the clock.

Ten-forty.

"No. You three need to go to bed. You have school tomorrow."

"But_ Ima_-"

"No, Shiraleh. Bed, now." Without a word, the girl got up and stalked off to her room. Once she was gone, Tim made his way into the living room, taking her hands and tugging her to her feet. After bidding the girls goodnight, they shut their own bedroom door softly behind them, and quickly changed into their pajamas before climbing into bed. Ziva sighed, snuggling into his arms.

"You okay, baby?"

She nodded, feeling him brush a kiss against her forehead. "Just... thinking." She fiddled with the button's on her husband's shirt before slipping her hand between the folds, fingers stroking the smooth skin beneath her fingers.

"Well, we both know how dangerous that can be."

She swatted him gently, before returning her hand to its place beneath the fabric of his shirt. "Shiraleh is _fourteen_."

"I know." He squeezed her gently. "I was there when she was born, remember?" He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to her head again. "When we were fourteen-"

"We were arguing like bats and frogs."

A moment passed, "Cats and dogs, baby."

She waved it away, pushing herself up to meet his gaze. "I think that was when I realized I loved you." She stopped, shaking her head. "No. I had always loved you, ever since we met. We were both just two stubborn to admit it to each other." Tim chuckled softly, pulling her closer.

Their lips locked in a soft kiss, and he slid a hand up, cradling her head, pulling her closer. She sighed into the kiss, sliding her arms around his neck before slowly breaking away. She reached up, brushing her knuckles over his cheek, before kissing him once more and snuggling back into his arms. Despite what everyone thought, Ziva was a cuddler- if anything, she loved spending her evenings curled up in bed or on the sofa with Tim, wrapped in his arms, his heartbeat in her ear. The bedroom door soon opened however, and three pairs of feet stepped into the room; they rushed to the bed, climbing onto it as their parents sat up.

"You three are supposed to be in bed-"

Yoni shoved the book into Tim's hands. "Uncle Tony did not have the book at his house, besides, he does not read as good as you. Please,_ Abba_?" Tim glanced at his wife, who sighed and nodded. Shirah and Yoni quickly curled into Ziva's sides and Nara climbed into her father's lap as Tim opened the book and, after removing the bookmark, began to read.

"_'My secret became my daily life. Our mother made certain that I bathed alone. When my breasts began to show, she bound them with a swathe of linen. That binding made me stand up straight, my full height, so that I might be cast of iron rather than flesh. I could hit harder than the boys. I was faster, as well, and more nimble with a sword. In time your father grew proud of me, almost as if I was his own, as if our lie was the truth. At night our mother taught me to read and write. I learned Greek and Aramaic and Hebrew. There were girls who teased me and pursued me, as they did all the boys they admired.'_"

"So... she became a boy?" Nara asked, turning to her father.

"In a sense, yes."

"_A__ni lo mevina_."

Ziva took a deep breath, trying to figure out the best way to explain this to her daughters, but it was Tim that beat her to it. "Do you girls remember the stories we've told you about Aunt Nettie?" The three shared glances, before nodding. "Well, Auntie was always a tomboy, like _Ima_. She was always following the boys around and getting into trouble-"

"Like Aziza in the book?" Nara asked.

"Kind of, _ahuva_." Ziva replied. "Aziza is raised as a boy more so that she will be able to protect herself as she gets older."

"Like you,_ Ima_?" Yoni asked, meeting her mother's gaze. Though the girls didn't know _exactly_ what their mother had done during her time in Mossad, they knew that she had done things that would put most people in jail; that she had held power within the agency- both as the Mossad director's daughter and as a highly-trained and skilled agent in her own right. But Ziva wanted to make certain that her daughters never learned of her past; of the lives she'd taken and the choices she'd been forced to make.

"I was a tomboy, yes. And I... I learned many ways of protecting myself as I was growing up." She swallowed, glancing at her daughters before reaching over and taking her husband's hand, lacing their fingers. "When I was... eight, I think... _Abba... Abba_ took Tali and I into the... forest... we were blindfolded, and he... he left us there. It... was up to us to find our way out of the forest and home."

"I'm sorry, I... didn't know." She met Tim's gaze as she squeezed his hand, shrugging.

"I never told you, baby. I did not tell anyone." She sighed, looking down at her girls. "Until now." A moment passed before she added, "_Saba_ Eli was not perfect girls, he may have loved Uncle Ari and _Aintin_ Tali and I, but... but he _was_ the head of Mossad. There were things he had to do that he did not always want to do, or that were not always right." She pulled her two oldest closer, letting go of Tim's hand to reach up and brush a stray strand of hair from Yoni's forehead. "But he tried to make up for it as best he could." She pressed a kiss to each forehead, before turning back to her husband, nodding for him to continue, but he just shook his head and closed the book.

"Time for bed, girls." Soft protests reached their ears, but neither heard a word, and after kisses goodnight, the girls returned to their rooms. As Ziva settled down in her husband's arms again, she whispered,

"_'Love would be my undoing.'_"

He chuckled softly, pulling her closer. "It's not your undoing, baby. Love is your salvation." Then, with one more quick kiss, he turned off the light.


	32. Chapter 32

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

**Thanks to Reader aka Sun Samurai and Cearra for reviewing 31.**

Tim awoke about three-thirty the next morning; once more, the girls were back in bed with them. Nara was curled up on his chest, Yoni was once more wedged between him and Ziva, pushing her feet into Shirah's back, who was curled into Ziva's embrace. After a moment, he cautiously slipped out of bed. Once he was dressed, and had pulled on his running shoes, he headed for the front door, grabbing his headphones on the way out.

"_Abba_?"

The sight of Yoni standing before him in her running gear, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, brought back quick film cuts of running with his father in Israel. He took a deep breath, quickly blinking the tears away. With a nod towards the door, he pulled it open, allowing the girl to go ahead of him before following and shutting the door softly behind them.

Once they made it outside, the pair headed off; so used to running alone in the mornings, Tim almost completely forgot that Yoni was with him until she slipped her small hand into his. He stopped, turning to his daughter. A moment passed, before he remembered that the child had asked to come along. As they stopped to catch their breath- or, so _she_ could catch her breath- Yoni asked,

"Did you used to go running with _Saba_ John?"

Her father thought a moment, nodding. "Yeah, I used to run with _Saba_ John when I was growing up in Israel with Si-si and _Ima_. It was the only time _Saba_ could be a father without being an ambassador."

"Because he was an important man?"

"Yeah. He was a very important man, to a lot of people." Slowly, Tim knelt down to meet his daughter's gaze. "But those few hours when we went running together, he wasn't an Ambassador, he... he was my _Abba_. Like I'm yours." The girl threw her arms around his neck, and her father chuckled, squeezing her firmly as he pressed a kiss to her head. "I love you, baby dove."

"_Abba_, only _Si-si_ can call me that." Yoni replied, pulling away.

"She can?" The girl nodded. "Well, then I guess I will just have to figure out something else to call you, _katan_." The girl giggled as he tapped her nose and then stood. "Come on. We've got a few miles to cover; then, how about we stop by the bakery and pick up breakfast for _Ima_ and your sisters?" She nodded.

By the time they finished their run, the sun was just starting to rise over the horizon, catching the D.C., area in quick flashes of light. As they slipped into the small Jewish bakery and cafe not far from their apartment, Tim felt Yoni slide her hand back into his. He glanced at his middle daughter, pulling her close and squeezing her gently.

"_Boker Tov_, Mr. McGee!"

"_Boker Tov_. Mr. Rosenthal, _m__a nish-mah?_"

Jacob Rosenthal was the grandson of a Polish Holocaust survivor, who'd come to America as a child after the war. His grandmother had been one of twenty children hidden within a Catholic school, passing off as boarding school children during the war. At seventeen, she'd met a young sailor in New York, and the two had married two years later. The bakery and cafe had been passed down since then- it had been his grandmother's idea, and he and his family did everything to keep her memory and values in regards to good food alive. The small shop catered to both Jewish and non-Jewish, both kosher, non-kosher and mixed like the McGees- unlike most Jewish restaurants, who_ only_ catered to the Jewish community. A fairly round man in his fifties, Jacob and his wife knew the McGees well; Tim was always in about the same time in the morning, picking up breakfast for his girls, and the two men had developed a friendship-

"_B'seder. Ahta_?"

Tim chuckled. "I'm good. Brought one of my girls with me today."

Jacob leaned over the ledge of the display case, chuckling when he saw Yoni curl into her father's side. "Your youngest, Tim?"

"Middle."

The older man nodded. "Ah, that's right. You have three, correct? So, where are the other girls? At home awaiting pastries and coffee, like the princesses they are?"

Tim chuckled softly, shaking his head. "If only. No, they're all at home in bed. Yonaleh wanted to come when I went on my run, so I let her. You remember Mr. Rosenthal, right, Yonaleh?" The twelve-year-old nodded, burrowing closer to her father. Mr. Rosenthal and his wife were always kind to them; she always allowed the girls to take an extra sweet, even if their parents protested, and Mr. Rosenthal had allowed them to watch him make the _babka_ one afternoon when they'd met Tony at the cafe. She liked the baker and cafe owner, he was nice, and reminded her of _Ima_'s friend Schmeil.

As Jacob's wife, Emma, came over from setting out a fresh plate of pastries into a tray, Jacob beckoned the girl over to a small counter where they set the food to be picked up after it was made. Slowly, Yoni went, watching as he pulled out a tray of freshly made pastries. "Fresh from the oven." He quickly glanced at Tim, who was chatting with Emma at the register. "Choose your favorite and one for each of your sisters. Hurry, before your _Abba_ sees."

Quickly, Yoni did as told, pointing to three pastries- two she knew her sisters would like and her favorite- and then watched as he quickly wrapped them all individually and placed them within a small brown bag, along with a few wrapped peppermints as he always did. He then placed a small box filled with _babka_ on top of the treats- a gift for the MCRT at the Navy Yard- and handed her the bag with a wink.

"_Neh'enah_."

She took the bag with a smile. "_Toda_."

As they left, Yoni turned back, waving to the couple.


	33. Chapter 33

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

**Thanks to amiebeca for reviewing 31.**

Four hours later, the team was sitting at their desks, working cold cases, waiting for something to come in. Tony sighed, leaning back in his chair, watching as Tim casually passed the small, rubber bouncy ball of Shirah's to his wife. Ziva caught it, tossing it back as she flexed her fingers and grabbed her coffee cup. Of course, Tim caught it mid-air, throwing it back without a second thought-

"I would kill for a murder right now! Or... or a kidnapping... or a heist or a terrorist plot or... _something! Anything_ but cold cases!"

The couple looked up from their work, the ball still in Ziva's hand. She glanced at Tony, bouncing it back towards her husband, who sat back in his chair and caught his breath, cracking his neck to relieve the tension from hunching over, searching for something that would constitute as a lead. "So... let me get this straight, Tony. You.. _want_ someone to die?"

The senior agent sat up, grabbing his cup. "Well, I didn't exactly mean-"

"Because for us to get a case, some innocent person will have to die."

"I know, but-"

"So, you want someone to be kidnapped, or killed or held for ransom just so we can put cold cases away-"

"_I get it, Ziva!_ I shouldn't have said anything!"

"You can say whatever you want, Tony, I am just pointing out-"

"Probie, _help_ me." But Tim wasn't at his desk. At some point during the conversation, he'd gotten up, going to the window for a little privacy. The two watched as he quickly glanced back at them, before turning back to the window, clearly, whoever was on the other end of the line was frantic. Slowly, Ziva got up, stepping around her desk towards her husband, her heart in her throat. Something was wrong. Tim's voice didn't normally go that high, or fluctuate between tones-

"Baby?"

He quickly glanced at her, before turning back to the window. Keeping quiet, Ziva snuck closer, Tony behind her, now as concerned as she was.

"... sweetheart, you have to calm down..."

"Hey, what's going on?" The Israeli shook her head, as confused as her partner.

"Listen to me, you need to try and keep everyone calm..."

"Gear up, we've got a case. Hostage situation at a school in Georg-" But none of the agents heard Gibbs, and the Team Leader stopped, turning to them. "Hey, are you three deaf-" It was then that Tim hung up, turning to his wife.

"What is wrong? Tim?" He met his wife's gaze, tears in his eyes. He reached for her, and she rushed to him, taking his hand. "Baby, talk to-"

"That was Shirah. She wanted to know if we could take off work to come get her and her sisters-"

"Is she sick?" Ziva asked, suddenly concerned. He shook his head, taking a deep breath.

"A couple... of her classmates... they came to school... killed a couple of the teachers... they've taken the school hostage... she said... they have... enough ammunition on them to... to cause a..." He choked, forcing himself to swallow. "To cause a bigger massacre than Columbine."

An hour later, the MCRT found themselves standing outside the Georgetown Day School. Every agent at NCIS was called in to work the case. As it turned out, there weren't two students, as Shirah had originally thought, but four, with enough ammunition and explosive devices to destroy an entire block of Georgetown if they wished. The school was well-known to NCIS- many of the agents' children attended the school, including the four kids holding it hostage. Of course, both Tim and Ziva were on pins and needles; their girls were in that school, as well as their friends... parents had gathered at the school, having received frantic calls from their children; they were being held back by the police as NCIS and the FBI worked the case. The homes of all four students had been searched; at one, both parents were dead, killed in their sleep the night before, at all, they found evidence of a master plan that was to take place.

"I can't do this." Ziva turned from working coordinates with Gibbs. "I can't just stand out here while kids are being slaughtered. My girls are in there-" Ziva rushed to her husband, taking his face in her hands.

"I know, baby. We will get them out. I promise-"

Tim glanced down as his phone rang, and he took a deep breath.

Yoni.

She stroked his cheek, nodding. "Answer it."

Taking another deep breath, Tim put it on speaker, and struggled to keep the panic out of his voice. "Hey baby girl."

"_Abba_?" Ziva choked on a sob; her daughter sounded terrified. "_Abba_, are you and_ Ima_ going to come get us? There are four boys and they..."

"I know, _katan_. And we're right outside, baby girl. We're working on trying to get in... where are you?"

The girl swallowed. "In... history. Mrs. Wilkins locked the door, and told us to... move to the back of the room..."

"Okay, sweetheart, can you listen real hard, and tell us what you hear?"

The girl nodded, going silent for several minutes. The team listened as she soon described what sounded like firecrackers popping out in the hallway- what the team knew to be gunshots being fired. Ziva shivered, curling into Tim's side.

"_Ktana_, listen to me, okay?" Tim pressed a kiss to her head, trying to calm his wife down as he slid his arm around her side. "Yoni?"

"_Ken, Ima_."

"I want you to pay as close attention to everything that goes on as you possibly can okay?"

The girl hiccuped. "O... kay."

Ziva took a deep breath. "If you can, press the video app on your phone and leave it running. Then, I want you to leave it on the desk nearest the door, and when you think it is safe enough, I want you to get it back and e-mail the video to Auntie Abby, so she can identify the gunshots and maybe figure out the ammunition they are using, okay? Can you do that for us, baby girl?"

"Y... yes."

"Good." Ziva quickly licked her lips, glancing at the others on the team. "Yoni, where are you sisters? Where are Nara and Shirah?"

The girl was silent for several minutes, thinking, before,

"N... Nara is in her classroom and..." She stopped.

"And? Yoni, where is Shirah? _Yonah_!"

"Shir... Shi said... she... she was going to... to be in the... the library..."


	34. Chapter 34

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

**Thanks to MusicWithinMe and amiebeca for reviewing 33, and Reader aka Sun Samurai for reviewing 32 and 33.**

_Washington, D.C.,_

_Georgetown Day School,_

_Georgetown_

The high school's library was quiet, all inside the upper library unaware of the chaos taking place in the lower half of the school. When Shirah had called her father, it had been on a hunch, for as they'd changed classes, there had been the sound of firecrackers, and a couple kids had run by in black coats. So she'd called Abba just to be safe, knowing that he'd know what to do. But none of them actually thought anything would happen. Like Columbine before it, the upperclassmen library was on an upper floor, however, it was at the end of the hall instead of in the center; as opposed to the elementary and middle school's library, that was on the first floor, at the front entrance. From the glass windows, it would be a nearly ten foot drop to the ground below.

"I fail to see why we need to learn about the Second War. It happened umpteen years ago-"

Shirah giggled softly. "It happened nearly eighty years ago, Jaq. Besides, the _Shoah_ was a part of it; it is important. If not to the world, then to our people." She reached up, fingering the gold Star of David _Saba_ Eli had given her on their last trip to Israel, the week before his death. Jacqi sighed, closing her book with a snap, causing others to look up.

"Well, I fail to see the significance of something that happened eighty years ago. How is it going to be beneficial to us now? Most of those people are dead." Jacqi sat back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest. Shirah rolled her eyes. Jacqi Williams, who lived on the floor above the McGees, had become Shirah's best friend- well, one of her best friends- in the years since they'd met on the plane back from Israel after _Saba_ Eli's funeral. Lin Eisheart, whose parents both worked in Legal at NCIS, lived at the opposite end of Georgetown, but had gotten to be best friends with both Shirah and Jacqi, since they were all in dance together, as well as the same grade. The Chinese-American-born girl had grown up steeped in her culture, much as Shirah and Jacqi together were.

They sat talking softly, making plans for the weekend, when Shirah stopped, her gaze going to something over Jacqi's shoulder.

"What is it? Shirah?" Lin turned towards the doors of the library; they could hear what sounded like running in the halls and firecrackers going off. Shirah stood, going to the door, but the librarian waved her to sit back down. Ms. Andrews made her way to the door-

Glass shattered, and blood soon rained across the floor. The sight of the librarian crumpling to a heap in front of the library door sent off instant chaos; students fleeing for the windows, tables being overturned, seeking shelter among the bookcases or back in the librarian's office. Of course, the majority of kids clambered under tables and hid behind chairs; instantly, cellphones were being pulled out and parents, police and EMTs being called.

Shirah, being Tim and Ziva's daughter, quickly grabbed her phone, dialing a number. "Who are you calling?" Lin asked, as Shirah waved the question away.

"David."

_"Ima."_

"Shiraleh, oh _thank God!_ _Abba_ and I are worried sick! Yoni said-"

"_Ima_, they are here... we are hiding... we are all under and behind the tables... _Ima_, I... I am scared..."

Ziva quickly pulled away; she put the phone on speaker and Shirah soon her heard father's voice followed by Uncle Tony and Gibbs. "Shirah, sweetheart, you listen to me and you listen good, okay?"

"Gibbs-"

"Can you tell us where the shooters are-"

The girls kept quiet, hearing the library doors open, followed by footsteps. "Shirah, talk to me, baby girl-"

Her voice was soft, frightened. "_Abba_, there is someone here._ In the library_."

Shots could soon be heard, followed by a scream of shock. "Shirah, what's happening? Shirah!" They could hear crying, pleading, gunshots. "Shirah, answer me!" But the girls weren't listening. Some students were running, trying to reach the doors of the library and dodge bullets at the same time. However, Shirah, being Tim and Ziva's daughter as she was, realized that rushing the door was the easiest way to get killed, and silently, she nudged her friends, nodding towards Ms. Andrews's office back behind the counter. Lin and Jacqi nodded, and slowly, the three began to crawl on hands and knees towards it.

They froze, hearing bullets begin to fly again, followed by the windows shattering and flesh being ripped open. After a moment, they continued on, crawling into the office and shutting the door as softly as they could, though none realized it hadn't latched; behind the heavy wooden door, were six other students, huddled behind the desk. They could hear, through the walls, doors slamming and students running through the halls. Without a word, the girls joined the six, huddling together like kittens, waiting with bated breath.

_"Shirah, talk to me, ktana!" _

"We... we are in Ms. Andrews's office, _Ima_. We... maybe... nine of us... _are you going to come get us_?"

"We're doing everything we can, baby girl." Shirah choked on a sob, hearing the fear in her father's voice. "SWAT has just arrived, and the police are working on getting the students on the first three floors out; they're working their way up; they won't let us into the school yet. Sweetie, how many are in the library?"

"How many are in the library?" The others shook their heads, unsure. _"We do not know, Abba. But they are in the library, and they are shooting..._"

"Shirah, sweetie, listen to me." Gibbs took control as Tim moved away, struggling to keep his temper in check. "Are you listening to me?"

"_Ken_, Gibbs."

"I want you to work on keeping everyone calm, and I want you to try to remember everything- everything the shooters say and do, okay? Shirah?"

A scream filled the air as more gunshots filled the air; the nine huddled in the librarian's office, holding their breath and struggling to remain quiet. Some had moved into towards the locked door of the store room, huddling in the doorway; Jacqi and a boy- Evan Nichols, a sophomore on the yearbook staff, hid behind the rolling bookcase behind the desk, and Shirah and Lin, however, had crawled beneath the desk, pulling the chair in to shield them as best they could. It was quiet for several minutes, and Shirah could hear Tony on the other end of the line.

"Shirah, talk to me, kiddo. C_ome on, Cookie, talk to me_." Only Tony called Shirah 'cookie'- a silly little nickname that he wasn't sure where or how he'd thought up. Lin huddled into Shirah's side, burying her face in the girl's shoulder, and Shirah grabbed her friend's hand, squeezing. They didn't hear the door open, or the footsteps.


	35. Chapter 35

**Rifiuto: N****on Mirien_a_**

_"Shirah! Cookie, talk to me! Cookie!"_

Out in the parking lot, they could hear gunshots and screams, and Ziva pulled away from Tony, tears in her eyes. Tim stood off by himself, struggling to keep his temper in check, but he kicked at the ground. "Tim? Baby, what are you doing?" The agent was pulling out his Sig and checking to make sure it was loaded. Ziva rushed to him, grabbing his hand.

"I have to go in there, Ziva-"

"We can't, Tim. Not until SWAT's gotten the kids out-"

"_My girls are in there, Gibbs! That's my baby girl, trapped in that library! She needs us! And I don't know where Yoni and Nara-_"

Shouts were soon heard, and they all looked up to see police directing children out of the school, holding hands, staying in lines, some running with their hands over their heads. Crying and screaming could be heard, and parents- held back by the police barricade- were shouting their children's names, searching for their child, praying they made it out alive. The MCRT quickly scanned the kids escaping the school.

"What grade is this? Is this the elementary school?" Tony asked, gently pushing the children through the barricade towards a group of paramedics who were directing the children towards an area further away in the parking lot. Injuries needed to be assessed and names taken before they could be released to their parents.

"And some of the middle!" Ziva replied. "A lot of these children are in Yoni's grade-"

_"Ima! Abba_!" The Israeli turned, feeling small arms wrap around her waist. She glanced down, her heart in her throat.

Nara, shaken and in tears, but safe.

_"Oh, thank God!"_ She knelt down, taking the ten-year-old's shoulders._ "Where are your sisters? Where is Yonah? Where is she?"_ The child shook her head, bursting into tears. Without a word, Ziva pushed her daughter towards the barricade, making sure she joined her friends, before going to Tim. "Nara is okay." She reached up, grabbing Tim's face. "Nara is okay, but Yoni... and Shirah..."

He pulled away, going towards the school, but Agent Fornell's lackey, Balboa, stepped in front of the NCIS agent. "You can't go in, Agent McGee. We don't know who's in there or how heavily armed they are-"

_"I don't care! My daughters are in there!"_

"We can't allow you to go in-"

"Gibbs-"

"_So we're just going to stand back while those four students murder as many of our children as they can? We're going to let this become another Columbine? Is that what you want?_" Tim screamed, grabbing Balboa's shirt and yanking him up.

"Gibbs, control your agent-"

"We have every agent from every agency working this case- SWAT needs to clear the building before we go in! We can't risk our agents' lives, Agent McGee! We're following protocol-"

_"Protocol? Following protocol? Is this what you call it? I am not going to sacrifice my daughters' lives so you and your bastard colleagues at the FBI can play God by following protocol, Balboa! My babies are in there, Balboa, don't you get it?" _

_"McGee, stand down!"_ Tim soon felt himself being wrenched away from the FBI goon by Tony, and he fought the older agent._ "Stand down, Tim!" _Tony waited a moment, before releasing his partner and removing his own gun, as other students came running with teachers from the school- students from the middle school. Frantic, Ziva quickly scanned for Yoni, but she didn't see any sign of her middle daughter. That made up her decision. She grabbed her gun, quickly checking the clip, before turning to her partners. Gibbs and the other NCIS agents soon followed suite-

"Ziver, try Shirah again." The team leader double-checked his vest, before nodding for them to follow him. The young woman did as told, but got no answer, though Shirah's phone remained on. Her parents had no idea she lay on the floor of the librarian's office with her friends, her blood mixing with that of her friends in a puddle of red.

"She is not replying-" Ziva took a deep breath as Gibbs nodded. When it came to NCIS, the agents followed Gibbs's lead if he and the MCRT were there. Each and every agent from NCIS followed his command, especially when it was their family on the line. As Fornell nearly burst a blood vessel, the NCIS teams rushed towards the school, tired of waiting and seeing no other options but to breach; the FBI had played their games long enough, and Gibbs had been patient as long as he could, but hearing the sound of fear in Shirah and Nara's voices-

As more students continued to rush from the school- now high schoolers- the agents split up, some taking the lower floors, others taking the middle, and the MCRT and Agent Burley's team taking the upper. Burley led his team down the lower floor, leaving the top floor for Gibbs and his team. It was a game of hide and seek as they checked each classroom, sending the students hiding in rooms out of the school as they made their way to the library.

Neither Tim nor Ziva really remembered the course of action taken in the library- they knew that at least one of the suspects was dead, by Gibbs's hand- and eventually, the other surrendered, unaware that the other two kids had committed suicide on the lower floors. When the smoke cleared, Gibbs set his team to getting survivors out- those that could walk were told to help the injured out, the seriously injured would have to wait for paramedics, and the dead-

Tim quickly looked around, searching for the girls, for any sign of his oldest daughter... the sight of the office door open... Tim rushed back behind the counter, pulling on a pair of gloves. Ziva, catching sight of her husband heading that way, rushed to join him. She skidded to a stop, slamming into him. As she leaned around him, she choked on a sob.


	36. Chapter 36

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

**Thanks to Guest and MusicWithinMe for reviewing 33.**

Blood.

Bright, red, darkening. It was everywhere.

And bodies.

Children, so many children, cut down before they even had a chance to live.

As the team worked on preserving the crime scene, as Ducky and the other medical examiners from the agencies- for the FBI, NSA, and CGIS had finally come into the school- kept busy, checking bodies and marking and removing the dead, Tim and Ziva worked on the nine students in the librarian's office. They had preserved the scene, and were moving the survivors from the room.

Not that there were many survivors in the office; of the some eighty or ninety students in the huge library, half were seriously injured, the other half were injured, a few unharmed except emotionally, and the rest-

Tim laid Jacqi in the paramedic's arms; Ziva was laying out markers with the names of the victims, when the only other girl beneath the desk whimpered in pain. The Israeli's head snapped up and she turned. "Shirah?" She clambered towards the girl, kneeling down and gently lifting her head. "Sh... _Tim! Timothy! Timothy!_" He rushed back into the room, meeting Ziva's gaze. "Shirah..." She turned back to her daughter. "Talk to me, Shiraleh..."

The girl whimpered as her father joined them, and gently lifted her up. She cried out, a hand going to her side. Gently, Tim lifted his daughter into his arms, being careful of the wound in his daughter's side. He left Ziva to finish the crime scene as he carried his oldest from the office, towards the waiting paramedics. Gibbs and Tony looked up. _"Wait!"_ The two medics quickly reached to take her, but Tim laid her on the stretcher himself, gently brushing a strand of hair from her forehead and kissing her head.

By the time Ziva got to them, the paramedics had taken Shirah and the remaining survivors out of the library. She swallowed thickly.

"It's another. Damn it, Boss, why don't people listen? After Columbine-"

"This is _bigger_ than Columbine, Tony." Tim whispered, glancing back at his partner. "They only killed thirteen at Columbine, and there were two of them. There were four here..." He took a deep breath. "Boss-" Gibbs nodded, watching as Tim took Ziva's hand, tugging her from the library.

By the time they reached the police barricade, children were being reunited with their parents, and Ziva took off, searching for their girls. Minutes passed, before she stopped, grabbing Tim's arm as he passed. She nodded towards one of the ambulances, and the two hurried towards it, finding Nara and Yoni- shaking, with a bandage wrapped around her shoulder- pleading with the paramedics. _"Yonah!" _

The girls turned, taking off for Ziva when they realized it was her. The girls slammed into their mother, breaking down as burrowed into her. Minutes passed as the girls clung to their mother, but eventually, they had to break apart, as the paramedics were moving to close the doors. Ziva glanced at her husband, and he nodded, promising silently that he'd take the girls and meet her at the hospital. Silent, Ziva kissed both of her younger daughters' heads, and then rushed to catch up with the paramedics. As the ambulance went screaming away from the school towards Bethesda, Tim knelt down, allowing the girls to rush into his arms.

Yoni broke down, climbing to his neck, and he wrapped them both tight in his arms, kissing her head. "I've got you, baby girl. I'm right here." He held them both close, before finally pulling away. He led them to the car- Gibbs had sent Tony down to check on them, and after finding out about Shirah, Tony let him know that he'd inform Gibbs of the developments.

"Go. Your girls come first, Tim. We can take care of the crime scene. Go be a daddy. You need to be, right now."

Giving his partner a small smile, Tim did as told, the girls holding tight to his hands.

The drive over gave Tim plenty of time to think about the whole situation._ Burley... returned from Agent Afloat a month earlier... guess Tony was right, his penance for whatever NCIS sins he'd committed was over... and Balboa... that idiot transfer to the FBI... clearly NCIS wasn't as boring he wanted it to be... he needed to transfer to Fornell for absolute and complete boredom... doesn't matter, as long as I don't have to see him in the NCIS halls again..._

"_Abba_?"

Tim glanced at Yoni, who sat in the back with Nara, the ten-year-old curled into her sister's side. Both girls were shaking, and Tim sighed. He'd been thinking of everything but the girls, on making sure they were safe and sound, physically, mentally...

"What is it, _katan_?"

Yoni swallowed, pulling Nara closer. "Is... is Shi going to die?"

The question startled their father so badly, Tim slammed on the breaks; thank God it was at a turning red light. He turned back to them, sighing. What did he tell them, his babies who had witnessed the deaths of both their grandfathers...

"No, _katan_, Shirah won't die."

"How do _you_ know, _Abba_?" Yoni choked out, sniffling. "You are not God. Or Gibbs."

He chuckled softly, reaching back to squeeze her knee gently. "Because I didn't _give_ Shiraleh permission to die, baby girl." Tim noticed that it seemed to calm the girl down, and he turned back to driving as the light finally turned green. They continued on to Bethesda in silence, Tim saying a silent prayer that they'd gotten to Shirah in time. Finally, he pulled into Bethesda's parking lot, and a space before turning the engine off. Once the car was off, the girls scrambled out, and Tim followed, taking their hands and rushing into the hospital. He skidded to a stop at the nurse's station, struggling to find the voice to inform the nurse of his oldest daughter-

"Tim!" He looked up, Ziva rushing towards him. Letting go of the girl's, he slid his arms around his wife's waist as she got close, and finally, with the adrenaline finally leaving his system, broke down.


	37. Chapter 37

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

**Thanks to Guest for reviewing 36 and Reader aka Sun Samurai for reviewing 34, 35 and 36. **

_Washington, D.C.,_

_Bethesda Memorial _

"He is my husband." With a nod, the nurse allowed Ziva to lead them away from the station. Once settled in the waiting room on the recovery ward, Ziva took Tim's hand, turning to him. "Shirah is surgery... she was... shot in the side... they think she will be okay..." His wife quickly wiped the tears off her cheeks, her Mossad training kicking in. The girls curled into Ziva's sides, relieved to be back with their mother. "She will be okay, baby, we _must_ believe it."

Tim pulled away, standing. "The last time I thought that, Ziva,_ Mams_ died."

Ziva winced, knowing that he hadn't meant it as a jab at her, for she'd been the one telling him that Kathleen would survive, but it stung just the same. "That situation was entirely different than this one, baby." She said, getting up and going to him. "Shirah will be _fine_, Tim." She stepped in front of him, taking his face in her hands. "She is a _Da_vid _and_ a McGee. She is a fighter. Our baby girl is a fighter. Remember that."

Footsteps soon caused the girls to look up as the Abby and the team rushed into the waiting room. Yoni rushed to Tony, who scooped the twelve-year-old up, holding her tight. "Where are your parents, Yon-Yon?" The girl turned, to see the emergency room door a few feet away.

Gibbs quickly set Nara back on her feet, heading to the doors; the others followed. Through the windows, they could see Tim and Ziva standing with the doctor; she was leaning against Tim, arms tight around his waist- several other parents were there as well, awaiting news on their children. Suddenly, Ziva let out a cry of surprise, wrapping her arms around Tim's neck as he lifted her briefly off the ground- clearly good news. But at the same time, a scream cut through the joy, and they watched as Marta Eisheart crumpled; her husband caught her, pulling her close. Without a word, Ziva went to Marta, pulling her into a hug.

Finally, Ziva came out with Natalie, the two holding tight to the other woman. "_Ima_!" Nara rushed to her mother, throwing her arms around her mother's waist.

"Ziver, where's Tim?" She glanced back at the doors.

"With Shiraleh." Then, without a word, she and Natalie helped Marta into the waiting room. Gibbs turned back to the doors, but Tim was gone.

"Gibbs?" The Team Leader looked down; Nara stood beside him, tears in her eyes, and after a moment, he knelt down, scooping the child up.

"Come here, kiddo." She wrapped her arms around his neck, bursting into tears. "Shh. It'll be okay, Nara. Your sister's tough. She's like your Mama; she'll pull through." He swayed gently with the girl in his arms, rubbing her back. "Shh. Trust me, kiddo. Shirah will be just fine."

Two hours later, Tim slipped out of the emergency room doors, tears in his eyes. He gave Gibbs a small smile, taking Nara from the older man. The older agent nodded at the father, reaching up and gently caressing his cheek, his blue eyes filled with worry. Tim swallowed, shifting his hold on Nara. "She's gonna be okay." He took a deep breath, pressing a firm kiss to his youngest daughter's head. Gibbs watched, tears gathering in his blue eyes as Tim broke down, tightening his hold on Nara, who wrapped her arms tight around his neck.

"It will be okay, _Abba_." She whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek. But as her father began to crumple, Gibbs took the girl; Ziva rushed to her husband, wrapping her arms around him as they hit the floor. She landed back on her butt, pulling her husband into her arms. She brushed a kiss to his forehead, holding his head against her chest, so that he could hear her heart.

"She is going to be okay, baby. Shirah is going to be okay-" She hummed softly, tugging him closer. He tightened his arms around her, burying his face in her chest, his sobs breaking her heart. Clearly the events of the day had caught up with him, as they'd caught up with all of them. The sight of the library saturated in blood, of the children rushing from the school... it had gotten to everyone.

Ziva continued to stroke her fingers through his hair, even once he calmed down; knowing that her husband needed such a simple touch to keep him grounded. She pulled him closer, kissing his hair. Not that she wouldn't break down later- it was almost guaranteed that she'd be the next to break- but Tim needed her now, and so she held him, whispering softly to him, trying to calm him with her touch and voice.

She brushed her thumb over the apple of his cheek, knowing that such a gesture usually helped to calm the man in her arms, and slowly, she looked up, to see the nurse standing over her. "Mrs. McGee, we're moving your daughter to a private room on the-" Ziva nodded, thanking the woman before turning back to Tim. The nurse left, promising to get the information for them once the girl was settled in.

Several minutes passed, before Ziva turned back to Tim; his sobs had calmed, and he tightened his hold on her. A moment passed, before he slowly looked up. She smiled softly. "Hey, baby." She stroked his cheek, catching the tears that slid down his cheeks. "The nurse said they're moving Shiraleh to a private room on the recovery ward. She is going to come back with the information for us. Do you want to go up and see her?"

He swallowed, before nodding, resting his forehead to hers.


	38. Chapter 38

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

**Thanks to Reader aka Sun Samurai for reviewing 37.**

"It's been three hours, Boss." Gibbs nodded, watching through the window. "They haven't moved."

Tim and Ziva stood together at the bed; Shirah had been given a sedative that would keep her sleeping, and allow her body to heal. She'd been shot twice in the side; the first one had hit her pancreas and appendix, before exiting out her back, just missing her spine by mere inches; it had then entered Lin, slicing through one of her kidneys and her liver; one of the kids had then shot Lin point blank at a diagonal. The second bullet that entered Shirah had gone through her spleen and up, piercing her lung before lodging in her back, inches beneath her shoulder blades and by her spine

The shot had entered beneath her chin and exited out the top of her head; how Lin had survived long enough to reach the hospital...

Ziva reached down, taking Shirah's hand. The girl's fingers were small; tiny. Ziva'd never realized just how small her daughters were, but to see Shirah lying in that hospital bed. Without a word, Ziva climbed onto the bed beside her daughter, wrapping her arm around the girl's waist. She pressed a kiss to her daughter's head, before resting her own on the pillow beside Shirah's. She sniffled, being careful of her daughter's injured side.

Tim took a seat on the other side of the bed, brushing his fingers through his daughter's dark curls. She was so beautiful, so innocent. She'd witnessed death and the tearing apart of her family, the loss of both her grandfathers, the death of a man who, given time, could have become her uncle... she'd just watched friends and classmates and teachers cut down from bullets...

"You listen to _Ima_ and I, Shiraleh. You are strong, you are a fighter. You are going to get through this- physically, emotionally, mentally- _Ima_ and I aren't going to allow you and your sisters to fall. We're going to be there to catch you, just like we've always done. Okay?"

She shifted; the sedative the doctors had given her after surgery was wearing off, and her father called for a nurse. Once she was checked over and the dressing changed, Tim slipped out of the room; he returned with Nara and Yoni in tow, holding tight to his hands. They rushed to the bed, climbing onto it and settling beside their sister when they reached her- Ziva hadn't moved from her place on the bed by her oldest daughter's side.

"_Abba? Ima_?"

"Hey, _ktana_." Ziva sniffled, pushing herself up. She pressed a kiss to her daughter's head, nuzzling close to her oldest. "How are you feeling?"

Shirah winced. "My side hurts."

"That's because you were shot, sweetheart." Tim whispered, joining them. "You're going to be in the hospital for a few days- a week at most."

Ziva snorted. "She started her life with a week in the hospital." Shirah furrowed a brow, but her mother waved it away.

Fifteen minutes later, Tim slipped out of the room. He made his way down the hall towards the waiting room where the team sat, waiting for news. But soon he stopped, leaning back against the wall, struggling to catch his breath. He had nearly lost his daughter- his firstborn, his baby- had nearly died in the librarian's office in her high school... he'd carried her towards the paramedics, feeling the lightness of her tiny frame and the weakening beat of her heart within his blood... he'd nearly lost his baby...

Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself away from the wall, continuing until he reached the waiting room. Sarah was the first on her feet. She rushed to her brother, throwing her arms around his neck. "Oh, Timmy!" He squeezed her firmly.

"She's awake." He choked on a sob. The others in the team were up and surrounding him in minutes. "The bullet... the first one went through her side, it hit her appendix and pancreas and... missed her spine by inches when it exited her back and then went into Lin Eisheart... and the second... it sliced her spleen and pierced a lung... and... lodged in her back..."

"Well, luckily for young Shirah, the pancreas, spleen and appendix are not necessarily vital organs that are required to stay within the body. Her lung, however, may present a problem. You know, I remember this one time-"

"Ducky, please." Tony cut in, nodding towards Tim. The medical examiner nodded, realizing.

"Yes, well, if you don't mind, Timothy, I would like to speak with your doctor-"

Tim gave the man a small smile. He and Jimmy had been swamped in autopsy, bringing in the bodies of the children and teachers murdered, as well as the three bodies of the shooters that hadn't survived the massacre. The fourth was sitting in a holding cell. However, when the two medical examiners heard of Shirah's injury, they'd left the overseeing of settling of bodies to Jimmy's girlfriend, Breena, who was happy to help lessen the load in Autopsy, so that both Jimmy and Ducky could be there for the two younger agents in their family.

"Ziva and I would appreciate that, Ducky. _Toda_." The older man nodded.

"_Al lo davar_."

Then, with a nod, Ducky slipped back into the emergency room. Once he was gone, Tim turned back to Sarah. "Can I see her, Timmy?" He nodded, glancing at the others in the team.

"Doctor said only immediate family for now-"

Tony held up a hand. "We understand, Tim. When Cookie's ready, come get us."

The grateful father nodded, giving his partner a quick smile before taking Sarah's hand and leading her back to Shirah's room. He let Sarah slip into the room first, before leaning against the door frame and watching, the sight of his girls all whole and together again doing nothing to calm the fear in his soul.


	39. Chapter 39

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

_Washington, D.C.,_

_Georgetown,_

_Three Months Later_

They called it the Georgetown Day Massacre, after the school it had taken place at. Support had flooded in from all over the nation for the victims and survivors of the shooting, and all of the agencies had raised money for the funerals of the children and teachers killed. The school had since been closed down and would be rebuilt a few feet away; a memorial garden to the one hundred and thirty dead would sit where the school had once stood. And the lone survivor of the four perpetrators would be spending the rest of his life in prison. The trial had been a month-long televised circus; NCIS had been swarmed with reporters, eager to get statements from the parents of deceased and surviving children.

In total, in a school of almost two-thousand, one hundred and thirty were dead- the worst school shooting to take place since Virginia Tech and Columbine. And many of the casualties had been shot in both the gym and the library. Of the nine students hiding in Ms. Andrews' office, three lived to see the upcoming summer vacation. And of the dead...

Five were teachers. The rest were students, of various ages, cut down before they even got a taste of life.

Many had been killed by the spray of bullets from the semi-automatic weapons the killers used, others were deliberately chosen, some chosen at random. Many of the victims had been children of NCIS agents- both Tim and Ziva knew Emily and Aiden Gallagher had lost all three of their children- both sons and their daughter. Others in the FBI had lost children, even a few agents in the NSA and CIA had lost children or friends of their children. Jacqi Williams had lost the use of her left arm and had spent a month in the hospital, but had finally come. As for Shirah-

Tim had never been more concerned about his daughter in his entire life. Though normally quiet when she wanted to be, Shirah now hardly said a word. She buried herself in dance and homework, books and writing fan fiction, and woke up screaming every night, the smell of gunpowder in her nose and the feel of blood on her skin. At first, Tim and Ziva had spent nights sitting by her bed, reading portions of_ Dovekeepers_ to her, but lately, the girl had taken to slipping into bed in the middle of the night. She would often sneak into the room an hour or so after they'd gone to bed and nuzzle between her parents, her head against Tim's chest, Ziva's arms around her waist. Throw in that both Nara and Yoni often ended up in bed with them as well by morning, and it wasn't unusual. But Shirah's screaming and mid-dream panic attacks_ were_ unusual.

And neither Ziva nor Tim knew how to help her.

Ziva looked up as Tim slid his arms around her waist from behind. She set the knife down on the cutting board and reached down, covering his hands with hers. He pressed a kiss to her temple before turning back to glance into the living room. He'd checked on Shirah a few minutes earlier; the girl had curled up on the reading nook, a novel balanced against her knees. She wore one of her father's NCIS jackets and had Brogan in the crook of her arm. She hadn't slept well, and an empty cup sat at her feet- her fourth cup of coffee that morning.

Ziva sighed as Tim pulled away. "What do we do, Tim? How do we help her?"

"She watched her friends get slaughtered like pigs, Ziva. Evan Nichols lost feeling in his legs as he lay beside her, and Lin Eisheart's face was blown off while she sat huddled under that desk with her. It's going to take time for Shiraleh to feel even remotely safe again. Even if you don't witness the death of a friend, just being there when they draw their last breath is enough to leave you with nightmares for the rest of your life."

She knew that he was talking about Kate Todd, and the moment Ari had nearly ripped the team apart- before she'd even walked into that bullpen. While Tim hadn't witnessed Kate's death, he'd been outside the warehouse when she'd unknowingly drawn her last breath-

"Give her time, baby. She just needs time to adjust." He went to her, kissing her chastely. "Trust me, I know." His wife sighed, knowing he was right.

An hour later, Ziva made her way into the living room, checking on Yoni and Nara, who were sitting on the sofa, gazes locked on the TV; a documentary on the Tower of London was on and both girls were engrossed in it, if only to keep their minds off the friends they'd lost. Both girls had retreated even further into themselves since the shooting. They both stuck close to home, and only spent time with those from the team as opposed to their friends as they had before. And if they stayed home, they spent time either in Nara's room or Yoni's or even with Shirah- so much time the sisters had developed their own language. As Ziva headed towards the study, she stopped, peeking around the bookcase.

Tim sat on the other end of the reading nook, talking softly with Shirah, who held Brogan tight to her chest. "... with you, baby girl."

"I want the nightmares to stop, _Abba_."

"Shh. I know, sweetheart. Trust me, I've been there." He reached over, brushing a tear off her cheek. She closed the book and moved the cup aside before crawling towards her father. Once settled in her father's lap, the teenager broke down, clinging tight to Tim's neck. Ziva met Tim's gaze, tears in her own eyes.


	40. Chapter 40

**Rifiuto: N****on Miriena**

**A/N: I've got a sequel in mind for this that focuses specifically on the girls, if you're interested.- Licia**

_Washington, D.C.,_

_Silver Spring,_

_2027_

The backyard was filled with the sound of laughter. Music was playing and the lights that had been strung up sparkled in the dark. Tim took a sip of his drink, watching as his daughters traipsed through Gibbs's backyard. The small party was filled to the brim with music; the smell of barbecue wafted in the air, and everyone was dressed in their nicest. He noticed his wife sitting with Abby and Jenny, chatting as though the years hadn't passed and life hadn't taken them on unknown twists and turns.

"_Abba!_"

He looked up in time to set his glass down and catch the girl who threw herself into his arms. The junior agent rocked back on his heels, startled but used to the feeling. After a moment, Shirah pulled away, giggling, as she took his hand, tugging him from the porch to where her mother was. When they got close enough, Ziva got up, going to her oldest daughter. "There's the birthday girl!" Abby cried, getting up and wrapping the teenager in a bone-crushing hug. Both Tim and Tony groaned; wincing as Gibbs hit them both on the back of the head.

"Both of you need to grow up." Ziva chuckled, settling on Tim's lap when he took the seat beside Sarah. In the nearly four years since the massacre, Sarah had since met, started dating, and then married Ray Cruz, an agent from the CIA. They'd had two little boys- twins Elijah and Ari, for the two men who had been part of her family- and the couple were currently expecting their third child, a little girl that Sarah had already decided would be named Talia, for the girl who had been a little sister to her.

"Eighteen. God, I can't believe Cookie's _eighteen_." Tony groaned, dropping into the chair beside his partners.

"How do you think I feel, Tony?" Tim asked, as Ziva slid an arm around her husband's neck. They all turned to the birthday girl, waiting.

Shirah had graduated from high school in June, and had been trying to figure out what she wanted to do. She'd tried for a few performing arts schools, but hadn't heard a word from any of them. Yoni, at sixteen, was also looking at performing arts schools, and Nara, who had turned fourteen, was still as out of balance as she'd always been, unable to make up her mind in regards to what she wanted to do and where she wanted her life to go.

All three were exceptionally close; they had grown closer in the months and days since the massacre, turning to each other instead of their parents- so much so, that Nara and Yoni were the only ones who knew of Shirah's decision. So it was as Shirah took a seat between Gibbs and Tony that the fourteen-year-old caught her oldest sister's eye. She bit her lip, struggling to keep her excitement down. The older girl pulled the white envelope out of her coat pocket.

"So, open it! Open it, open it, open it!"

"_Abby!_" The Goth snapped her mouth shut at the entire team's pronouncement.

A moment passed before Shirah glanced down at the envelope. Taking a deep breath, she got up, going to her parents, holding out the letter. "You open it, _Abba_."

Tim looked up at her, surprised. He and Ziva shared a glance before he took the envelope. Shirah watched in silent excitement as her father opened the envelope, pulling out the letter. Ziva read it silently, choking on a sob. "Oh, Shiraleh!"

"What is it? Timmy, Ziva?"

But Tim just shook his head at his sister, swallowing thickly.

"_'... pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to the Archaeology Program at Tel Aviv University...'_"

Ziva took the letter from her husband's hand. "_'You have been...'_" She swallowed. "_'awarded the... Netta _Da_vid Archaeological Discovery Scholarship...'_"

Shirah waited for the shock to wear off, before, "It is full-ride scholarship, housing and everything. Are you proud of me, _Ima, Abba_?"

Her mother didn't say a word; she just stood, going to her oldest and pulling her into her arms. Eli had left a good chunk of money to the University, for the Archaeology program, so they could set up a scholarship in Nettie's name- for Nettie had been one of the first women to receive a degree in Archaeology from the University, one of the first women to be allowed on excavations with a degree in the field, the first woman to walk the ruins of Masada and lead her own excavations, solo and group. There was enough money left by Eli to keep the scholarship going for the next several years-

"I am _so_ proud of you, _ktana_."

Five hours later, Tim looked up as the light flicked on in the study area. Ziva shuffled over, in a pair of his boxers and a tank, one of his button-downs open on her small frame. Her hair was a tangled mess of curls, and she yawned. "Tim, it is... one in the morning. You should be in bed." He didn't move; a sigh escaped her throat. "Shiraleh will be fine, Tim. She is a strong, beautiful, amazing girl... she will be okay. I promise, baby. We have raised her right." She whispered, going to him and stealing a soft kiss.

"I know, I just..."

She took a seat across from him on the reading nook, furrowing a brow. "What is that?" Tim held a small box in his lap.

"Do you... remember when I left for MIT?"

She nodded. "I tried to make you stay... and Ari gave you that sign that is hanging in the kitchen."

"Well, there was something else in the package that Ari gave me that day. But... he told me," Tim sighed, thinking of the man who'd been an older brother to him from the time he was six-years-old.

The man Ari had been before he'd killed Kate, before Gibbs had painted him a monster and pursued him to the ends of the earth... back when he'd been a boy of ten, watching out for him and Sarah and Ziva and Tali... when he'd take them to get ice cream, and had watched over them when their parents worked late, who had taken them to the beach when they were teenagers and been their tour guide on trips to Turkey and Egypt and Syria... back when he'd been nothing more than a boy who'd loved, yet to turn into the man filled with hate.

'You are to give this to Zivaleh, but only when the time is right. Do not worry, for she will understand what it is, and the significance behind it.'

"Ari told me to give this to you... when the time was right. That you would understand what it is and the significance of it."

Slowly, he pulled the object from the box, holding it out to her. Wrapped in plain brown paper, Ziva glanced at Tim before taking it and slowly freeing it from the paper. He watched in silence as the paper fell away, revealing a piece of wood carved into two doves that appeared to be flying towards each other, and beneath them, and beneath them was a Celtic Star of David, the words_ Ahava Nitzhit_ carved beneath the star.

Ziva let out a gasp of surprise. "It is _beautiful_-"

But Tim wasn't paying attention. He'd noticed something within the wrapping and had pulled it out, unfolding it. "It... it's wood from the... the remains of the Torah ark in the old synagogue outside Be'er Sheva. Ari, he... he said that... he asked for permission from the rabbi and... it was granted. He had this... made by a wood carver when he... came to America back in... in ninety."

"Who was the carver?" Ziva asked, unable to take her eyes off the intricate work of the doves. "Tim?"

Their gazes locked and he held out the note. Ziva's gaze widened in surprise, and she looked up at him. He nodded, as surprised as she was at the name scrawled in Ari's handwriting.

_Leroy Jethro Gibbs. _


End file.
